The Carillon
by ilikegrapes
Summary: Based on the Crystal Version: She never believed waltzing into the Burnt Tower would spiral her into a new adventure, with Champions, eccentric researchers, charming gym leaders, Team Rocket and one legendary dog, but such was fate and destiny.
1. Vesper

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Pokemon. I just play the handheld games to pass the time.

_When the carillon chimes,_

_the winds shall echo, _

_and sing their song to the divine beasts._

The door of the cafe opened up with a jingle, the bell above its door entreating a foreboding presence on the white-caped man. His appearance drove several people to look up from their mugs and newspapers, a couple of them giving bobbing nods before returning to what they had been doing before his entrance. They had seen the russet-haired man before, in fact, many a time, as he was a regular within the lounge, if not for his near constant bickering with the local gym leader or his never-ending stories about some legendary dog that had not been seen in centuries. One could always argue he simply found the café's coffee suited to his tastes.

He paid no attention to the other residents of the cafe however, his eyes set on a certain flaming red-haired male in the back of the room, who sat idly within an orange clad booth that horribly contrasted with his locks. Adorning his backside was a rather dark hued cape, fastened around his neck and covering most of his other clothing, though it could easily be deciphered that they also held a fixation of darker colorations, ranging from navy to obsidian. It was his calm eyes that justified his appearance, as they filtered away from the book he was currently reading, a classic novel someone had recommended to him recently. His eyes now settled upon the man who had stirred lively commotions in the past, and an evidently smug smirk set into his features as he lowered his book down upon the counter that his arms rested across. However, on the whim of a second thought, he raised his hand, extending it in greeting and waving it towards him in some sort of beckoning motion, while a smoothly taut voice echoed from his vocals.

"Eusine, my man. Come on over. Do entreat me as to why I was summoned from Blackthorn to speak with you."

Eusine gave a broad grin, finding the dragon man slightly amusing. They had met many a time, often gathering in crowded spaces if only to look less conspicuous. After all, Lance was one of those people who were often noticed for various reasons. For one, his hair and handsome features were a bit hard to miss, and the fact that he was one of the Elite Four, no, the Champion, might have something to do with his popularity. However, his fan girls were not currently occupying his time and personal space, thus rendering the two men an opportunity to chat. Eusine meandered over in calm fashion to the booth, sitting opposite the dragon master, and laced a smirk within the fortitude of his lips. Lance's brows furrowed in annoyance at the other's silence, one brow arching in contemplation and obvious ill will.

"Well, I was asked to meet you here for a reason, correct?"

Eusine's smirk did not cease, only continued to grow as the moments splayed out in longer durations. Lance was about ready to throttle the man before him, and then of course, Eusine found the reason to speak, once coming upon the sight of an angry Champion longing to unleash some unholy terror upon his person.

"I found The Carillon."

Having recently been taking a sip of his mint-berry flavored coffee, Lance soon found himself choking on the contents in his mouth, spitting it quietly into the face of Eusine, who rubbed it off with a plain napkin, still wearing a grin.

"You asked me to meet you here because you actually think you found someone who matches The Carillon rubbish?"

"Lance, you amuse me. Acting as though The Carillon is utter rubbish. Come on now, I know you have questions."

Lance did have questions, quite a few if he were to admit. Most were relating to Eusine and pondering over his current amount of brain matter, which seemed to bear a lot of hot air and fluff more often these days. His proclamations about the legendary dogs were enough to make anyone think he was insatiably batty. Instead, he decided to voice the other queries his mind had managed to conjure in a brief amount of time.

"Well, how on earth did you come across your dear Carillon, Eusine? I know for certain you thought it was yourself for quite some time."

At this Lance drew back his smirk again, and Eusine's face landed into some kind of pout, bottom lip jutting out at the distinct remark. True, he had believed he fit the criteria for some time now, though clearly this was no longer the case. It wasn't him. It would never be him. This knowledge alone was enough to bruise his ego in contemplative silence, it was another shattering manner when brought up by the dragon master. Poor Eusine's esteem was slowly filtering down the drain into some haggard mess, and no one was around to clean it up. He had searched for years, tracking each legendary quotation, each fine, delicate detail of evidence, and coming up with nothing. The obsession had grown wildly over time, as many could testify to. But to know, to finally know that he wasn't the one meant to be the blessed bell, it was enough to sink him into a pit of desperation and whiny blubbering, had he not been the one to discover this little matter in the first place. It also helped that Morty had smacked him upside the head a few times before arranging a meeting with the trainer before him, to discuss the origins of truth that unfolded. He continued with a deep sigh, running his hands through stranded bangs flickering along his forehead.

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"Saw what? You know, you have to say a bit more than that, since clearly I wasn't there to witness it. Whatever _it_ is."

"She unleashed the dogs."

This had undoubtedly received Lance's astute attention. His brow was raised even further up his head, eyes flickering into shades of disbelief, surprise, and perhaps once more questioning his companion's sanity. He stood rigidly in his chair, cocking his head slightly and eyeing the residents nearby, though found no one to be listening, to his knowledge anyway.

"_She? _Who is _she?_ How could a girl manage to unleash the dogs? What on earth are you blabbering on about?"

The fact that Eusine had managed to raise Lance from his stupor, to implore him about the Carillon firsthand, made the pale man's face liven up with mirth. There was also the fact that he had seen his dog. Oh yes, **his** dog.

"Morty and I were searching in the Burnt Tower you see-"

"What the hell? Morty let you do this? Honestly, I thought that man had more common sense-"

"Stop interrupting me. Anyway, Morty and I were in the Burnt Tower, attempting to find a shred of evidence about Suicune and the rest of the dogs-"

"Good grief, your obsession with those mutts will one day-"

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME."

Eusine and Lance's constant bickering earned some attention from the local cafe dwellers, who peeked over shoulders, magazines, newspapers, and coffee mugs to see what was causing all the ruckus. Eusine managed to wave with a slight blush on his face, while Lance threw napkins at people who hadn't yet turned around.

"Now then, as I was saying. There was another in the Tower, a red haired boy with a very odd temper, I have to say. We asked him what he was up to, and he seemed incredibly obnoxious and told us to mind our own business-"

"I don't care about some brat kid. What about the girl?"

"LET ME GET TO IT. Didn't Clair ever teach you about manners?"

Lance snorted, but allowed the other to continue, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the horrendously decorated booth.

"After exploring the ruins for a time, a slender girl walked in. She had to be around fifteen perhaps, with a heavy backpack resting across her shoulders and a rather curious expression on her face. I would say she was quite cute too…"

"What are you, a pedophile now?"

"No. It was just a comment."

"Right."

"So she entered the confines, and Morty and I talked to her politely, told her why were there and things. She seemed very interested in the subject. Oh what was her name..oh, Keiko, something or other. Yes, that was it. She then saw the red-haired boy ahead, and got a rather annoyed look on her face, perhaps she knew the young man. I'd say after my encounter with him I'd wear much of the same look. We didn't see her for a time afterwards, though there was some screaming and yelling coming from the next corridor. Then we heard Pokemon battling."

Lance was more than curious now. Ah, so the girl was a Trainer, such was to be expected, he could presume, as was the other boy apparently. When Eusine didn't get an interruption from Lance, he assumed it was safe to progress with the details of the story, holding the dragon tamer on edge as he awaited the rest of the tale.

"Well, clearly the girl had beaten the boy to a pulp, and then the ground began to shake. She let out a scream, and then all I heard was the shout of the boy telling her it was her own fault she fell down a hole. A hole! There was another whole level to the Tower!"

Lance leaned forward again, thoughts jarring and revolving around the mere implications Eusine had just told. There had been a basement to the Tower? Figures. All this time Morty and Eusine had been searching in the wrong area, digging and messing around old ruins, when there was a completely new terrain they could have been surveying and uncovering. What lay there? What secrets did it hold? What did it mean to this Carillon, what was below the depths? He remained silent, allowing Eusine to continue in his story, while surrounding queries continued to circle his head in a daze.

"Morty and I followed and were witness to an amazing sight. The girl had dropped into the depths and stood wide-eyed at three huge beings. The Legendary Dogs, Lance. All three of them. They were immaculate, beautiful, and oh so deadly. She advanced, and I must say, I was scared for her and yet hoping I could be in the same position. I wanted to reach out and touch those dogs, each and every one of them."

"Then what?"

"They awakened. First, Raikou, the fierce yellow beast. Then Entei, the fire cannon. They both let out terrifying roars, completely captivating anyone's senses. I was so in awe of their raw power, if only they could have been harnessed…they raced by her, and out into the world. And then Suicune...oh, Suicune…"

The face of Eusine would make anyone believe he was in pure heaven, simply from the sight of the cerulean canine. A mysterious smile played across his features, as his eyes seemed to roll into the ceiling as he imagined the glimpse over and over again…a dream come true for the masterful researcher, a paradise only he seemed capable of celebrating. Leave it to Eusine to not even be able to touch the ferocious animal, to not even gleam at its features for more than a few moments, yet still be capable of registering its magnificence.

"He came towards her?"

Lance, though seemingly on the edge of his seat, could guess what had happened. Only The Carillon could actually be tested by one of the dogs. The fact that it was Suicune could surmise as to why Eusine looked so heartbroken and delighted at the same time. The Champion attempted to put on a facade of indifference as he awaited some semblance of an answer.

"He roared in her face. She didn't move. She didn't balk. There was no fear upon her face. Imagine! He raced around her, coming as close as he possibly could before taking off. He was testing her. She's The Carillon. Only he would let her get that close and not run at a moment's notice. She has to be the one, this Keiko girl."

The red-haired man let out a sigh before leaning across the counter and burying his face in his long arms that had been folded across the table to hold his head. His voice came across sullen and filled with some insurmountable dread, as though a great weight had suddenly landed on his shoulders. The truth of Eusine's statement only made it heavier, for the master knew for all of Eusine's quirks, the man knew his legends, his stories, and the trials that came with them. This girl, this child, was hopelessly tossed into a world of danger, and she truly had no idea what was in store for her.

"You know this opens up a can of Caterpie. Team Rocket can't find out. No one can. Not even her. Don't you say a damn word to her, Eusine. She'll know and understand when the time comes, and only then. Beforehand...it will only cause more trouble. Where is the Clear Bell?"

"I know, I know. Morty gave it to the Director, it should be safe in his possession, until she needs it."

"Of all the worst times for her to appear..."

An audible groan of annoyance filtered through Lance's chest, while Eusine still remained his rather whimsical self, staring up at the poorly lit ceiling.

"Perhaps it is a blessing. Do not think so harshly of this wind."

"She will make them all rise, and then the world will be in complete chaos."

"All the more reason to help her. All the more reason to follow her, if only to just touch Suicune..."

"He'll keep following her then?"

"Of course. He has to test her. He can't afford to be captured by some weak human who doesn't know what she's doing."

A snort was heard from the dragon master, but nothing more. It was easily understood that the girl, this odd child, had no idea what she was up against, what she was doing, what would happen to her. That much was an eternal given. No one knew, really. But Lance could sense it in his bones, the very foundation of the world splitting and cracking, evil leaking into the vexing position of activity, poised and ready to strike at a moment's notice, the hero, or heroine in this case, unaware of her fate.

"We need to keep track of her as well. What Pokemon does she own? What power does she possess?"

The long winded banter was finished for a moment as Eusine contemplated in thought, tapping his chin lightly with his index finger, before replying once more.

"She had three…Tauros, Onix, and a Quilava."

Lance's eyebrows shot up his cranium once more, before uttering more groans of dread and frustration, putting one hand on his head as though it had suddenly been induced into some chaotic headache no remedy could erase.

"Good god, she's a walking disaster. Two Pokemon that can be beaten by a Water type? Suicune must find all of this very amusing."

"Hence the reason she carries the Tauros. Besides, don't think of her as powerless yet. She already has three badges."

At this Lance spit out his coffee again. Damn his ill-timed drinking habits.

"She beat Whitney? No one beats Whitney nowadays. They're all too ignorant. Plus that Rollout is deadly."

"She did."

The formidable redhead stood up from the booth, sliding from its restraints and leaving his mug to rest at its current station, half-empty, forgotten and forlorn. He turned to exit the cafe, though not before bending down and whispering at Eusine's level, the latter still occupying the orange space.

"I'll warn Clair about this, I'm sure she'll send out some trackers. We had better leave. I don't doubt we have gained attention. I shall send you a message later on where to find me."

Eusine gave a firm nod, before leering his eyes to a constant shadow behind Lance, and as the master's footsteps and billowing cape echoed away from that sanction of the world, Eusine's orbs continued to watch the darkness. It didn't move when Lance had, despite taking on a human shape, sneakily, stealthily coiled until both occupants had fled the scene.

They had been heard.


	2. Ringing of Change

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Pokemon, I simply play the handheld games for entertainment.

Note: For more information and random splurging of nonsense about this story, please visit my profile. Now enjoy! Also, would anyone mind telling me how to make a line break across the page, like for a scene change and such? It would be greatly appreciated.

_If their heart be true,_

_if their soul be free,_

_they shall step forward,_

_and relinquish the tyrants._

"ROCKY. ROCKY, I SAID STOP HERE!"

The shouting came from a rather dainty girl with blonde hair fastened off in a long, flowing ponytail atop a large, cascading rock creature, better known to many as an Onix, who continued onwards at a rippling speed, despite her commands. Her shimmering blue eyes seemed to captivate the world in front of her, resting along the sight of widened plains and forests in the distance, still managing to twinkle despite the Onix's continued hell-bound path. The large green backpack resting on her shoulders bulged with various objects, a telltale sign of a Pokemon Trainer on a long journey to accomplish heartfelt goals. Several pieces of essential equipment had ruptured beyond the brink of the backpack's zipper, it seemed the thing had a mind of its own and longed to spill, overflow across the valley, leave its trainer stupefied when it became clear items had been lost. How the girl managed with the lack of a bigger container was her own secret, but none of the contents fell out, luckily for her, as the ever-accessible Town Map seemed all too eager to run amongst the vast chords of wind flowing by.

The billowing, gray boulder serpent charged across vast fields, leaving various dusty and rubble patterns in his wake, with little to no regard about how he left the scenery after he had so easily graced it with his presence. The girl grimaced at the sight behind her as she turned to survey the now beaten grounds, soon turning her head back around to view the approaching farm ahead, eyes beginning to widen as it became obvious that her Onix was giving no indication of slowing down, despite the looming structure coming closer and closer by the second. So of course, it was time to scream absolute, bloody murder.

"ROCKY. STOOOOOOOP."

This time the large creature had heard her, or found itself actually capable of listening, and ceased its movements abruptly. The girl teetered forward for a moment or two, having not anticipated the halted movement (perhaps she had been hoping for a gradual slow down), and pitched her hands to rest on the giant slabs of woven rock to catch her balance. It was one thing to take a tumble while walking clumsily around various towns, it was another to come flying off an Onix, falter along a drop of infinite proportions. That was all she needed, to end up in the local hospital with broken bones or a gaping head wound, screaming hysterically. With a sigh, the young lady, wearing only a plain blue shirt, skirt, and sneakers, rode the wave of rock all the way down to the ground, skidding to a stop and grabbing the knapsack behind her. A pale hand made its way to the Onix's head, which had been lowered to achieve her shorter status, closing its eyes softly as the girl caressed its knobby cranium with warm pats and lingering touches before deciding to cease, else the massive beast would likely start purring. She didn't need another earthquake pinned on her, like the time she had visited her uncle back in New Bark Town. It wasn't her fault Rocky's purring started vibrations in shifting tectonic plates, honestly.

"Now stay here Rocky. I have to go deliver these berries to that poor Miltank."

The girl's smile rippled along the course of her lips, before she trotted off to the nearby barn, her movements barely making a sound against the warm grass. The Onix was left to eye the herd of Miltank warily over to the side, where the pasture was littered with the mooing bovine. The gray rock snake eventually paid them no heed, he had seen them several times before in much of the same incidence, and quietly chose to take a nap in the warming sun, squeezing its massive eyes shut as the rays of plentiful shine kissed the varnished hide.

The old farmhouse before the girl wasn't very large, just enough to provide shelter to the small family of four, the barn next to it looking rather debilitated and about ready to sink to the ground. Paint had long ago lost its glorious luster, fragments of warm russet hues still managing to remain in random places, despite most of it having chipped away from weather and the hands of time. Portions of the roof had since flown away, the harsh wind dragging away pieces of siding and shingles, some could been seen along the edge of the wood, as though they had been frightened to proceed any further. The youth wouldn't be surprised if the occupants of the house and/or barn would inform her to watch her step, should the roof had begun to leak from the rain that had sanctioned the grounds the preceding evening. She made a note to herself to look for some local carpenters once she returned to Ecruteak that afternoon, perhaps she had saved enough money along her journeys to fund for some planks of wood. She couldn't find it in her heart to not help this family out, her charitable soul wouldn't allow anything less. So many lived in such situations these days, and when times got hard, it was difficult to proceed along this incline of life. Living on the outskirts of Olivine and Ecruteak was apparently not suiting this family well, regardless. Their current situation was grim, what with their prized Miltank now incapable of delivering milk, which was used for healing local Pokemon, the remedy more than satisfying for downtrodden monsters as they fought on courageously. But without the bovine in good health, the family's assets were taking a massive plummet.

She knocked rather loudly upon the wooden frame of the door to the house, knuckles rapping along the heavy oak, soon after pressing her ear against it as she listened for the sound of anyone approaching. When hesitant footsteps began to glide across their wooden floor, she stepped back a couple of inches, allowing room for the door to swing and a rather young girl to step out of its threshold. The youth must have just returned from the barn, her face was grubby and messy from chores, but even the muck and grime glued to her face and black hair couldn't alleviate the charming grin that wrapped around her features. The innocence that pervaded her visage could do nothing but urge the Trainer's face to rush out in her own matching grin, eyes glittering with mirth.

"Keiko! We're so glad you're here! Come inside, Mama has to see you before you give berries to Lulu."

Extending a hand, the older girl accepted the dirty paw as though there wasn't a speck of dirt on it, and followed the child into the house. On the inside one could see that the residents had attempted to make their shelter hospitable, warm and cozy, everything in its proper place, fresh new paint managing to make the homestead reek of the odor, but that would go away with time. The wooden floors swayed beneath the weight of child and young woman, but its creaking alarmed neither of them. Despite the moaning pretenses, the hardwood floor still allowed them to walk along it without falling into the depths of the lingering basement (to which the Trainer had never been and quite frankly had no urge to go to).

"Keiko's here!"

The child announced to the rather plump woman standing merrily in the kitchen, humming a jovial tune recently heard on the radio nearby and currently fixing lunch in front of a well-used counter-top, having lost its luster and sheen some time ago. A smile blossomed across the elder woman's features as the child led Keiko across the room, and into the woman's awaiting arms, extending into a warm and gracious hug. The Trainer's smile blossomed even further, if such things were possible, incapable of denying that the feeling of one's motherly embrace was something she sorely missed. Even if this woman was far from her own mother, a key difference being that she was still alive, Keiko could close her eyes and imagine, for just an instant or two, enshrouded in the arms of the woman, that her mother was holding onto her instead. She never let her disappointment show whenever she opened her eyes and immediately brought herself back to the present.

"We're so glad that you can help us while you train, my dear. You're such a sweet thing, how can we possibly return your good graces?"

"Don't worry about it Rosa, its not a problem at all. Marie, why don't you go give Lulu the berries now?"

Keiko reached into her backpack, pulling out a tenderly wrapped satchel of plain berries, recently blossomed and picked from nearby trees, and handed it to little Marie, who skipped off to the barn without hesitation. Rosa smiled at the young lady before grabbing a chair and inviting the trainer to sit in it while she continued to prepare lunch, of which Keiko could only eye in excitement. It had been some length of time since breakfast, her travels along the road from Ecruteak to this place had left her parched and famished. Besides, she ended up splitting her precious, vacant little piece of toast with her Pokemon, since they too had been hungry in the idle morning sun.

"Now child, how much longer did you say you were going to be around here? I would hate to see you go, and I know Marie and Belle simply adore you."

Keiko smiled graciously, sitting in the chair, but not before offering to help Rosa once more, who quietly shooed her away from the food. She placed her hands in her lap, shifting them on occasion, as though at a loss for something to do, itching to help in any way she could, even with Rosa's protests. Her eyes flickered downwards to settle along her pale limbs, seemingly saddened by the state of Rosa's questioning.

"Not much longer I'm afraid. If I defeat Morty, I will need to advance to another gym, which means another town. Such is the life of a Trainer I suppose, we're such wandering nomads. I hate to leave all of you, but it must be done. But I'll certainly visit, if you permit me."

"Of course child, why, we have invited you to stay here more than once. You are welcome any time you'd like."

As the elder woman finished her gracious invitation, a large roar echoed through the countryside, enveloping the home with its massive decibels and shocking ruckus. Rosa and Keiko gasped, the girl managing to rise from her chair in slight anger, Rosa dropping everything she was doing, the sandwiches across the countertop laying forgotten. The girl recognized the thundering tune of her own Pokemon, balling her fists at her side in annoyance.

"That Onix, wait 'till I get my hands on him..."

The mumbling and muttering from Keiko only gave Rosa indication not to worry. The young trainer had on more than one occasion trouble with the Onix trying to scare off their small herd of Miltank, which he had not yet accomplished. The stubborn cows would simply stare at him in complete boredom. This of course, had not yet prompted the rock serpent to cease his bugles.

Keiko ran to a musty window, rubbing it with a lingering sleeve, and then peering out of its depths and catching the scene before her. She gasped again, because this time she actually was surprised. Instead of what she had predicted, a rumbling herd of cattle rushing against her rock creature and hurtling him to who knows where, she found something completely different and alarming. Sure, Rocky was out there all right, but he wasn't scaring a harem of Miltank. Instead, a group of trainers had advanced upon the scene, all not looking too happy at the predicament they faced. Each bore a cape and dark clothing, their faces worn into solid portions of hatred and malice towards her beloved Pokemon. There had to be about eight or nine of them, standing in neat rows of twos and threes, as though they were on the way to some marching practice, an infamous drill laced into their brains and programmed from memory alone. Several were indistinguishable, shadows either caressing their faces, or the lack luster portion of their visages were nothing worth remembering. Keiko had never seen such people before, mysterious and odd, especially along the throngs of markets or idle walkways motioning Trainers to new towns. They were definitely the type someone could spot in a crowd, their clothing and demeanors setting them apart from anyone Keiko had ever witnessed. These were not the humble, quiet people in streets and corner shops hunting for a bargain, they appeared to be naught more than outlaws on the chase for their next course of action, a possible route to more crime. This worried the girl all the more.

"Rosa, I'll be right back! Don't go outside."

Keiko's warning came to the plump woman as she ran out the door, the trainer holding steadfast to her remaining Pokeballs clutched to her belt, opening the wooden frame that led her outside the house and running towards the gathering. Legs whipped her cordially to the crowd, eyes becoming cold, fierce slits, narrowed and hostile. She glared at each of the others as she progressed closer and closer, and as they turned their attention upon her the hint of malice folded away from their faces, instead turning into mirth. No one from the odd gaggle issued any sort of mustering voice, so she placed her hands along her hips, attempting to look readily defiant against their smirking facades.

"Is there a problem here?"

Keiko's questioning tone, settling into obvious annoyance, seemed to only further their amusement, which caused the girl's confusion to envelop along her visage. Her nose crinkled in disdain, while one brow managed to raise upright. Her left hand began to poise itself next to the chamber of Pokeballs wrapped neatly around her waist, the belt holding strong across her midsection and throughout the loops sewn along her skirt. One figure stepped forward, taller than the rest, his cape sweeping along the ground until he stopped in front of her, arrogantly, sniveling his nose as though absolutely offended that he would have to step towards her, that she was lower than dirt, despite her potential worth to his cause. His aura demanded respect, of which Keiko was hesitant to give. He reeked of something disturbing and horrifying, an indifferent force ought to seek the world and rob it blind. Her perceptions continued to ring shrilly in the back of her mind, warnings coming across in tiny voices; to not annoy the man, to not ask for some potential beating.

"You are the Trainer, Keiko…correct?"

"Yes…"

The girl answered in confusion, feeling slightly disheveled in front of the mass of people, already sinking away from her previously hostile inclinations, wanting to be swallowed whole and not suffer under their haughty gazes. Upon closer inspection, she realized they were all men, of various ages, wearing identical capes of some strange R lettering on the back, and as orbs ran along the belts of the men, each appeared to be carrying at least two Pokemon. None of them seemed very kind, and a few were looking at her skirt in some perverse delight. Feeling more than slightly self-conscious, the girl shifted her hands down to her skirt, desperately trying to pull it down her long legs further, hoping prying and leering eyes would soon leave.

"Good then. If you follow us, there will be no trouble."

"Follow you? Why on earth would I follow you? What makes you think you can just wander onto someone else's property, have no respect to tell me who you are, and what you want?"

The man sneered down at her as she delivered the haughty retort, having forgotten she was trying to remove herself from a state of defiance, lowering his head so that he was now eye-level with Keiko. She noted that his eyes were black as coal, there was no warmth contained in their depths. His face was emotionless, passive, and aloof to the uncaring demeanor he possessed. He held power, she could see it in every motion of his stoic facade, while narrowing her own eyes in annoyance at his sudden intrusion into her personal space. Even his breath was cackling with an icy poison, and an involuntary shudder roamed along her spine, progressing into her body despite the warm air of summer. At this, the man grinned, as though feeling rather accomplished that he was sending her into some frightened display, and Keiko tore her eyes away from his formidable and uncomfortable gaze.

"You're quite special, Keiko. Team Rocket has a place for you in their establishment. Join us and have more power then you ever dreamed of."

Considering Keiko never dreamed of power, she figured this was about as lame as it got. What good would power do her? She was not hungry for such a thing, she did not desire or lust after it as though her life would be complete if she held power firm in her grasp. There was no glory from such a thing in her mind. Sure, she wished to be a decent Pokemon trainer, to become a master in the art of battling, but never did she long for power over anyone. Power only created corruption, blinded those to only that figment of their ambitions, became evil and made hearts corrode into shards of ice. There was no doubt in her mind such had happened to the one before her. Perhaps at one time he had been a beginning trainer like her, desperate for the chance to become something, someone, and had seized the first invitation bestowed upon him. It made Keiko's stomach cramp and long to shove some rough bile up her esophagus, but she forced it back down, tremors no longer gripping her spine. The girl had to get a grip on herself, or else the powerful male before her would think she was about to wet her pants or something, and Keiko didn't intend to give him any thing of such satisfactions. She glared back into the man's pools, her own shimmering hues of azure beginning to hold some sort of sparking and twitching of annoyance and disdain. She hadn't yet heard of Team Rocket's reputation, being rather new to the training experience, despite her three badges currently molded to the inside of her jacket. Keiko truly had no idea as to what she was getting herself into by challenging the throngs of people standing before her, but decided not to think of possible consequences. Each idly made a fist as it became obvious she was not going to balk any longer, pausing to rest their hands against their Pokeballs in case such actions were needed, a warning to give the girl. Come with us or end up crying along the floor in misery. One against nine didn't sound exactly fair in Keiko's book, but she urged her voice onwards into the great expanse. She assured herself it would not quake, that it would not show fear, and only inform these men that she was not to be one of their own. She met the leader's eyes again, boring her own into his, in the hopes that he would be deterred. Who would want to deal with a hostile girl?

"I don't want power. Leave these people and I alone, please. We have chores to attend to. I don't intend to waste any more of my precious time hanging around the lot of you."

Putting her hands on her hips again, as if to prove her defiance, the girl managed to turn around and sniff haughtily into the sky, her eyes shut for a moment or two as she proceeded to walk towards her Onix who remained in the distance, waiting for some moment to strike from underground. The rock serpent's face glittered with the temptation of destroying the men and their Pokemon, the ones who had chosen to upset his trainer, her emotions coming off in waves and urging him to do something to corrode the heartless fiends who dared trespass. All he needed was the appropriate signal from Keiko, and he would seek to destroy the mass of men.

However, before she knew what happened, her body was colliding with the dirt, and an unexplained ache began to erupt across the back of her head. Raising her chest and head off of the ground in stunned trepidation, she reached behind her; a hand rubbing against the contortions of her cranium, gasping at the feeling of wetness upon her fingers. Her blood stained the now shaking limbs, dripping from a wound along the back of her skull, the copper scent springing into the air and justifying a quake from the Onix, rumbling portions of the earth cracking and splitting. Pain surged throughout her entire body at the singular touch, numbing and spell binding her into some listless daze, staring at the backdrop of the open fields and woods beyond her. Suddenly, she was naught more than a stunned little girl, feeling cold and alone at the sanction of an open field. There were frightening men behind her, and safety nowhere to be found. Then a voice whispered just beyond her ear, the same cold, icy one from before.

"Foolish girl. Never turn your back upon your enemy."

And then she lost consciousness, not feeling the ground shake, not hearing the powerful command of the man to his followers, not realizing she was being lifted into the air and thrown over the leader's shoulder, not even aware that her Pokeballs no longer rested at her belt, that the Onix had not been quick enough for the giant nets that had seemingly appeared out of no where.

She was gone, lost in a sea of unforgivable crime, flying off into the expanse as the Rockets launched into the sky or crossed the ground on various Pokemon, each gawking, cackling with glee, the cold male in the lead with such a small flicker of a smile resting along his face. The Trainer lay across the front of him along the saddle of his own Tauros, one cruel hand lingering over her back to ensure she stayed in place. The world shifted beneath her even as eyes remained shut and oblivious to the peril she faced.

No one noticed the plump woman in the window, eyes wide and face shrieking in horror, the screams of children echoing in the worn, frail domicile.


	3. Tocsin

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Pokemon.

* * *

_Danger is everywhere,_

_Plaguing the world with doubt,_

_Safety never guaranteed._

_Despite all, ensure that the ringing shall not fade._

_Hold the sublime tone in the palm of your hand._

Eusine was not having a good day. The sun was not shining in radiant bliss, the Pidgey were not humming sweet tunes, and the wind was not howling with the domineering grace, simply stagnant against the hushed force of rain clouds looming above. Poignantly, they only seemed to signify the dawning of nightmares, shadows clinging together in the hope that they could once again reclaim the day. It seemed the day before had been a whirlwind, that the shimmering wishes and dreams of yesterday had suddenly been slashed in a single, chaste event.

The Carillon had been taken, and it was his fault.

He had needed no reminder from Morty, after that alarming phone call, that the blame was to be placed upon his impulsive, rash behavior and his brain's incapability of making rational decisions. The worst of it all truly was the fact that all of this could have been prevented, and due to the error of his ways, a young girl had been taken against her will, brutalized, no doubt wondering what had prompted the violence. The Trainer had been thrown into the ire of this unconquerable earth, and only because he had opened his big mouth.

What would have happened had he done none of this? If he hadn't succumbed to his own excitement, his impervious glee, his enthusiasm at the sight of the dogs being unleashed, what would the girl, Keiko, be doing now? Enjoying her peaceful roaming as a Trainer, excitedly catching a rare Pokemon, battling that obnoxious brat he had seen her with before, simply basking in the glow of life? Had he taken it all away from her? Should he have left her with a destiny unfulfilled, a life that told of immaculate blessings, yet never knowing of the divine factions? Should she have been ignored, seen as a fluke? Should he have just let it all go? He had placed her into such a predicament that not many could face, and even at this point, there was no one to say if she was strong enough, if he was capable, if Lance or Morty even were. There was nothing telling everyone it was going to be all right, that these instances would soon blow over, that safety was imminent and no harm would come to the beings of this earth. How could one tell if the girl wasn't being tortured, beaten, or even walking along the path of the wicked demons at this very moment? No one knew if she was even strong enough to withstand the mighty forces of evil crashing down on her. She may be a walking, living legend, but she was also human. They all were.

There was a weaker part of him that wanted to place some of the blame upon the Dragon master. Lance had been there with him, had shouted and ranted just as loudly as he, if not even more rambunctiously. Was he not the Pokemon League Champion, for crying out loud? How much more attention-getting could he possibly be?

No, it was time to stop these thoughts. With a bitter sigh, the man sat amongst one of the smaller couches adorning his living room, running a hand through russet locks and trying to maintain some sort of order to his mind. Now was not the time to be placing blame on anyone but he, no matter how manifested the temptation. One hand came to rest on the small phone lying on a nearby stand, blinking with notices of several voicemails. Punching in memorized numbers, he only listened for the anxious answer on the other line, pressing the mobile device against his ear.

The defeated man waited one ring, two rings, before the dragon Master picked up with a mixture of raw hope, no doubt pondering over if the girl had already been found, and bereaved acceptance of the matters at hand. Eusine could only imagine that the Champion was putting himself through the same thought pattern as he had done to himself, placing all the blame along his soul and no one else's. Yet, despite all this rummaged, defeated pride, there was still a girl out there to save.

"Lance, we need to find Rocket Headquarters. Morty is out searching for an informant as we speak, and I was wondering if you'd like to play hero."

* * *

Lance was not often characterized as foolish. Often times he was heralded as a commander of common sense, possessing a combination of dry wit and intelligence, and there was the impeccable talent he had with Pokemon that was not yet matched by another trainer. Some had told him he also contained an air of pompous arrogance (of which the master was sometimes inclined to agree), though if Lance had thought it would have attacked his senses and rendered him incapable of processing any cognitive ability the day before, he certainly would have reined it in.

The truth was, he hadn't been prepared for this dire situation. Everything that could have gone wrong had done so, and he was left feeling the motions of yesterday, going over each exclamation, wondering how loud he had been, how much attention they truly had garnered, and how impetuously stupid he was.

But now, he had a chance to right his mistakes. After becoming unceremoniously involved with Eusine and Morty's discoveries, he would have to correct the damned portions of the day before. Eusine offered him the chance to become savior of this growing adventure, so the dragon tamer took the invitation and ran. He wanted this proclamation to be an apology to the girl he had never met, that hadn't asked for any danger to come her way, so that he wouldn't have to admit he was truly sorry to her face. Admitting he was mistaken to himself was so much easier than slandering his name in stupidity before some Carillon child. Perhaps after this entire event unfolded, he could simply return back to normal life, pretend this never happened.

Besides, he honestly didn't know if he could even save her.

No, that was a lie. He was determined to find the child. He could easily defeat Team Rocket. He could bring her back to the safety of cherished people, not diabolical minions and towering figures gleaming about the destruction of the world. There would be difficulties along the way, for that he was certain. This mission wouldn't be without the chance of risks, undoubtedly his efforts would have to be sly and sneaky to get around the headquarters. Now was not the time to go head to head with the top Rocket. Lance would find satisfaction with the simple notion that the girl had been taken right out from under the organization's nose, exploiting their weaknesses and taking the prodigy to safe ground, away from the reach of gleaming claws. There was no other option at this point.

The Carillon would be rescued. The Carillon wouldn't suffer any longer. The Carillon would conquer.

Long strides caused the obsidian cloak behind him to whip along, a formidable presence brimming across the horizon as he continued his walk to Morty's spacious apartment. Already contained within the area was a promised Rocket informant, caught long ago and bribed into spewing out bits and pieces when requested to do so, and in return, granted protection from his former allegiance. Reaching the door, Lance raised one previously idle fist, pounding it against the frame with indulged impatience wrapped around the tedious noise, an expected coil of decibels. At once he heard footsteps, quick and hurried, not the precise and deliberate motions Morty often made. Upon opening the frame of entrance, Morty's tired eyes landed on Lance's irritated gaze, stepping aside without a word to allow him access to the living quarters, before shutting and locking the door behind him. There was nothing that needed to be said. Dread and fear gripped both men, Morty's haggard gaze only contributed to the onslaught of the previous day's proceedings, the lulled mentality that she was gone, and the restlessness of their fortitudes would not be at ease until she was safe and sound.

Lance didn't bother setting his sights on the dark and ghostlike furniture, reflecting the mysterious personality of Morty and his inclination to collect the demons of the Pokemon world, but rather, the figure parked between two cushions, fidgeting and trembling beneath the weight of shadows cast aloft on his form. Perhaps Morty had been trying some interrogation tactics, but Lance didn't bother with such efforts, turning on the nearby lamp, providing him a chance to see the nervous man look up. A dazed and confused expression lit upon the informant's face, as though he had just recently been brought back into consciousness from a hellish dream, yet the present didn't promise any heavenly inclinations.

"You're…you're…"

"Lance. Yes, I'm aware of who I am."

The nervous teetering and stammering of the former Rocket ceased at Lance's snide comment, the eyes of the dragon master flowing over each feature of the minion's face and holding back the urge to laugh. It was the slithering comment made by Lance that had Morty's head raise from his nearby pedestal, watching the proceedings with a numbing ache churning throughout his body, urgency making his heart palpate in frequent strains. Silently, within his own mind, he urged Lance to cease the arrogant vice, in hopes that it wouldn't deter the coward from answering his queries.

"Now, I don't care about your name. Such information is not prudent to me. However, I would like to know where the Rocket Headquarters are, and where such a place would keep their most precious valuables and prized possessions."

The commanding voice of the Champion made the previously fidgeting man jerk upright, poignantly filtering his gaze over Lance before running his eyes over the edge of a nearby coffee-table, down and hesitant, as though undeserving and cowering in the other man's presence. Lance remained standing, finding it the best option, for it appeared his methods of fright and intimidation were working in his favor. Morty just sighed bitterly at Lance's handling of the situation. It was the Dragon tamer's impatience and rushed demeanor that made him act in such a way, but Morty couldn't help but feel the quivering anxiety that these methods would only make the Rocket quiver and shake, instead of answering. Luckily enough for the ghost trainer, the man continued in his stammering, bumbling routine.

"The…the headquarters are kept active in Mahogany T-t-town, sir. In a tiny s-s-hop, you will f…find a secret stairway. This will lead you to the basement. The girl, you want to know where she'll be, right?"

"Correct."

"Um…well, probably somewhere beneath all that. There are several rooms after you cross into the main hall of the basement that…that should have some cells. That's where they usually keep prisoners, until they either give in or…"

There was no need to finish. Lance had already left.

* * *

Upon her return to consciousness, Keiko found that she wasn't in the safe hold of the plains of grass behind Rosa's house, in a warm embrace of her beloved Pokemon., or a comfortable bed within a Pokemon center. Instead, she appeared to be in a dimly lit room, complete with walls of pale alabaster, small cracks in the various tiles running along the edge of the floor, unsanitary conditions filtering along the slits of her narrowed eyes, as the blue orbs struggled to open. She felt tired, hungry, and by the sound of things (or lack thereof), completely alone.

In all the confusion of her dazed mind, she didn't recognize the pressure of cuffs wrapped around her thin wrists, her legs in a messy heap along the floor, in the same condition as her arms. The dull, mind-throbbing ache along the back of her head wouldn't go away, continually reminding her of the events that had unfolded. Finally managing to open her eyes wide enough to constitute a full awareness of the room, appearances had not been deceiving. She was currently being held in a tiny cell, a prison-like fortress that left her mind reeling.

Why was she here? Why was she locked away in this horrible place? What had she done to deserve this? So many questions lingered within her mind, running nonstop until she couldn't take it anymore, trying to shake the puzzles away and getting a fierce notation to not even bother moving. Eyes flicked over the cuffs, chains leading to the wall she currently leaned against, giving forth a sigh from her chest, raking along the walls as a muffled sob. Her body was a mess, the ache within her skull indicating that her nightmare had not been imagined. Elbows, knees, hands, and even her face were scathed and bloody, bits of her clothing had been ripped, torn into shreds and no doubt lying somewhere along the grounds from whence she came. Tears of frustration threatened to spill, and the only satisfaction she had in her mind was that perhaps her beloved monsters had gotten away unscathed.

This matter was short lived as she looked to where her belt contained no Pokeballs. Panic settled in, for while she had been worried about herself and where the hell she was, but these were her friends, her saviors, her beloved companions that would risk life and limb for her, and she in turn. To discover that they were missing, that they could quite possibly be tortured because of her existence (or whatever she had done to land herself in this predicament) made her heart ache, made sadness overcome any warmth or fire brimming along her soul. Her bottom lip began to quiver and saline droplets grabbed hold of her cheeks, swimming along her stained face and landing on the remains of her shredded skirt. Already the feeling of hopelessness was dragging her to the brink of self-destruction, for without her Pokemon, she was simply chained to a dark, dank hellhole with no chance to escape. They were her lifeline; the core of her existence, and to be rid of them, to believe that they could be drifting away in pain, made her heart ache. They didn't deserve ill treatment, like some captured criminals, they didn't deserve to wallow in suffering anguish along the throngs of this aching world. They had done nothing wrong.

A portion of the wall suddenly shuddered and began sliding, revealing an opening in the fortress, bringing Keiko's head up in alarm and to hastily act as though no tears had been falling along her face. Instantly she recognized the man striding across the floor, the cruel, cold eyes easily distinguishable as well as his condescending, pompous arrogance that he carried with just the sanction of his breath. He could only be the one who had taken her away from humanity, left her to suffer and wallow in the filth of this scattered semblance. Keiko couldn't bear to think anyone else would be so evil upon this earth, so deserving of the loathing and contempt flowing through her membrane at his existence.

There was a glimmering smirk set upon his face as he leered over her, a tall presence no doubt meant to send shivers down her spine. He simply stood there for several seconds, just staring at her sad little formation along the dirty floor, a pathetic mess of tangled hair, blood, and ripped clothing. He had half a mind to laugh, to chuckle, at the state of the world's beloved Carillon. This was the one that was supposed to raise Suicune? This was the one meant to unite the earth? This was the one that legend's had mentioned and caressed as a blessed figure? Ha. It was worth a good jab at the defiant creature, and his eyes glinted in satisfaction at the slipping of idle tears down her cheeks. She couldn't even wipe them away with her sleeve, not with the rusted chains holding her to the wall, keeping her from even the most simplistic movements. Pride filtered through his person, and all because he had carried her own away and made her look like a cheap toy, a puppet ready to be shifted and made into the delicate poison he had in mind for her. It served her right for the earlier displays of impudence. The legends and puzzling runes may have painted her as a holy entity, but all he saw before him was what he had deigned a masterpiece, a crumbling vessel of power.

Keiko attempted to place an act of defiance upon her features as the man continued staring at her, brow furrowed in anger and eyes twinkling in disdain. She merely began begging her face to not betray her emotions, not realizing they had already done so with the mere presence of former tears. She didn't want this horrible man to see her in any kind of fear or rationed hopelessness, to feed him her needs and welcoming an end to this frightening world. Brushing her chapped lips together in contemplation for a moment, she furiously grinded her teeth together and gave out a harsh cry to him, laced with threatening tones, despite her current condition.

"Let me out of here."

The Rocket actually began to laugh, not being able to control his mirth, a sort of eerie crescendo that shifted, bounced off the resounding walls and left a hollow echo of terror to scream through Keiko's veins. It was a childish fantasy to think of him even being intimidated by her attempts at fortifying any control, in fact, the way his face gleamed with such unsung laughter, it was as though he had expected her defiance. Blinking at his chuckles, she allowed the mere glimpse of his face to her sights. His face promised no tolerance, hinted of nothing but pain if she didn't go along with his thickening plot, whatever it was, and Keiko's overflowing hatred of him was beginning to grow by the minute. He was the one who took her away from safety, led her to this road covered only in ruins. In the back of her mind, a prickling sensation erupted, a tremor longing to discard him, seeking pleasure at the thought of him being destroyed, a mere satisfaction in her current shambles.

"Only if you say the magic words."

The man smirked as her frustration was pulled tightly along her face, words spewing and spitting forth in complete rage. Keiko's spitfire tendencies were no longer in control, they had been splitting into fine webs for a lengthy amount of time now, and she held nothing back as her disdain crept into the murky depths of the dark passages. Despite being chained against a wall, being incapable of nothing more than jerky movements, usually resulting in some reminder of pain, the girl strained, moved forward, curled across the floor, enough to hang from the chains and get as close to the man as she dared. She wanted him to see that she was capable of being menacing as well, no matter how innocent or polite she may have seemed. The trainer wanted him to know that she was not an inferior, pathetic little being.

"I don't know why I'm here, or whatever it is that you're doing in this damned place, but I'll never join your stupid organization. How dare you even think that by imprisoning me here I would sink to your level. I will not be a tool. Where are my Pokemon? LET ME OUT OF HERE."

"Clearly you do not understand the point of your arrival to this chamber. Since when do those imprisoned get to make requests, anyway? Do you actually think you're going to be released?"

He lowered his face to meet hers, no longer a towering menace, but a cold-hearted fiend glimmering at the fact that she had lost her freedom, lost her liberty, all at his command. One look at his pompous face, so close to her own, made rage sparkle far more than before in the pit of Keiko's stomach. At this, she promptly drew back her head, and let a huge wad of saliva simmer along her tongue, flow through her mouth and onto his face with a sort of divine gleam.

The Rocket whipped back in stunned surprise, bringing his hand to his façade to wipe away the disgusting filth that had just radiated across it. He stared at her smirking face, seemingly quite amused with herself, and without restraint, met her at eye-level once more, only this time he drew back a hand and slapped it right across her cheek. The stinging sensation tore into the girl's visage and awakened insurmountable pain over and over again, tears prodding and poking at her now narrowed slits, rolling over and creating yet another stream, following the same path as before. His actions only solidified that he was not to be trifled with, and the child uttered no other words, silenced by the glowing crimson mark etched across her skin.

"Insufferable wench. Simply because of your insolence, I intend to torture your little monsters a bit more. I hope you find such thoughts comforting after your pathetic display."

The man rose from his kneeling position in front of her and turned, the masterful cape billowing out behind him, meandering back to the wall in whence he had came. Keiko violently thrashed against her chains, though only felt pain from the effects. His restored calm entity annoyed her to no end, and more than once she felt the urge to punch his indifferent face, and would have done so, if only she wasn't currently immobile. Only after she had gone over these thoughts did his previous words echo in her numbed mind, that due to her spitting brigade, her Pokemon were going to be in further pain. It only reminded her of how empty she felt, and the Rocket took her impending silence as understanding, and offered no more words as he removed himself from the room, eagerly taking the key and locking the door.

As he turned away from the confines of the dungeon, he could hear the sobs of the young girl, imagining fresh tears rolling down her cheeks with some sort of sick, twisted delight. He couldn't wait until she was fully broken, completely empty and solidified into nothing but a pathetic, withdrawn little girl, doing anything he wanted in order to save her companions lying in the next room. A satisfied smirk was dented into his lips and cheeks, because once had mastered the child, he had Suicune. Once he had Suicune, he had the world in the palm of his hands.

It was only a matter of time before the sobbing mass of child became naught more than a puppet of his immaculate persuasion.

* * *

Well there you go. ;D I figured I might as well be nice and provide a preview of the next chapter, since this one was only meant to clarify the current whereabouts of several characters and contained only a small progress of the plot.

_Chapter Four_

"You will learn your place, girl."

His cold voice echoed across the vast chamber, yet she paid no heed, already enveloping her mind to a peaceful trance, her own method of blocking out the cruel master, thought of in his previous absence. She could envision her old home, overflowing with warmth and benevolence, or Rosa's wondrous farm, the sounds of Miltank mooing whistling along her eardrums. Keiko closed her eyes to imagine such wonderful things, enjoying the sights and sounds of the past, no matter how recent it seemed, unaware of the Rocket's change in physique before her. At the girl's continuing silence, his façade warped into nothing but sickened rage, and felt no resistance from his body as he raised a closed fist, and swung. She had crossed the line, and had to pay the price.

Sorry, that's all you guys get for now! Thanks to all those that review, and I hope to see you all next time. ;D Updates may take up to a week at this point (stupid college), but have no fear, The Carillon will be continued.


	4. Calling of the Angelus

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Pokemon.

* * *

_Bravery and cunning,_

_One needs to survive._

_Do not hesitate, do not flounder,_

_Watch your step, watch your step,_

_Before you fall._

Shifting and moving around the mansion had seemingly no pleasurable aspect for Eusine, other than wasting precious time and attempting to alleviate the stress and anxiety this day had given him. So much had happened, shifting his world into different viewpoints to the point that he felt ill, and yet he had found no remedy to conquer this dizzying feeling of unease, other than to occupy himself in other measures of the day.

This was why he was arriving at the stoop of the farmhouse where Keiko had last been seen. Eusine was already aware of where the child was being held, this wasn't the information he was hoping to gain; not from the lone woman who had been witness to the catastrophic events of the Carillon's abduction. Instead, he was hoping to truly know which diabolical beings had been involved in the scheme and capture, as an avid researcher he found it in his rightful duty to process any information capable of helping them along the way. Did these demons have any specific characteristics? Was there one monstrous leader? How many were involved? Eusine's questions would no doubt roll endlessly along his membrane and tongue until the interview was over and done with, but the lone set of queries that now settled in his brain had him swallowing in fierce temptation of even asking them. How did they take her? What did those brutal beings do? How cruel would they, this unlikely formation of a few scarce souls, have to be in return to proclaim justice?

Eusine's knocking was not very loud and quite brief, thinking that the carrying of far too many decibels was useless in this case, for in the hollowness of empty screams, everything echoed.

Despite his quiet candor, the door was soon opened, his eyes flickering over a small child leaning out from the corridor, the merciful slits running over the youth to use her as some sort of distraction. Tears had stained her cheeks, and had not yet been washed off, or perhaps they were too recent, a continued source of evidence for heartbreak and defeat. The researcher carefully mustered his best attempts at a soothing voice, lowering himself to the child's level so that the tiny girl no longer had to gaze in wonder at his appearance and reasoning for being there. Eusine had a notion that no one around these parts had seen someone dressed in the varnish that coated his body, this portion of the vast loam of Johto was simply a floating farmland, resting and trying to relax as the world passed by. He was having second thoughts about his overzealous suit of lush cream and ivory, but decided to not be overtly hesitant in its regards, and spoke to the child.

"Good day, my dear. I'm Eusine, I told your mother that I was hoping to drop by today to ask some questions. May I come in?"

The child nodded, and as she turned the man noticed another girl behind her, following closely behind him as he walked through the open precipice. To think these two children were witness to the horrible event that had happened here, it was all a bit too much to bear. Not only did the Rockets cause pain to the Carillon, Lance, Morty, and himself, but also to a small family, that had simply taken the young trainer under their wings of protection, tried to make her feel at home. Was she like a sister to these girls, an elder sibling showing them the ropes of life? Was she like another daughter to the woman now walking towards him, a carefully pasted smile at her face? How much grief had been sown along these vacant lands of indulged silence? How much longer would the suffering last? Why did all this pain have to spread, one lasting touch upon an open canvas and everyone seemed to feel the demise? Eusine's attention was squandered from these thoughts, if only for the briefest of moments, to shed some voice towards the woman he had sought for the occasion.

"I apologize Madame, Rosa, is it? I don't mean to make you answer all of my questions, but they might help in our case-"

"It's fine, Mr. Eusine. I understand. That poor girl went through more than I. I can't act like I suffer more than she. Please, come sit down, I hope I can be of some use to you and your cause."

Eusine nodded graciously at her answer, before slipping into the confines of the kitchen, now dirtier than it had ever been before. The woman unceremoniously tossed a worn sponge from the table and into the sink, and rid a pile of tissues resting in some kind of nest from the counter, before sitting at the small wooden stand and silently imploring the researcher to join her.

"Now, before you begin, Mr. Eusine, what is it that you do?"

She seemed suspicious, her wise and quivering brow cocked in curious contemplation, running over his figure as though he held some sort of gun in his polished suit. One couldn't really blame her, especially with recent events. He had to admit that not everyday did some poor Trainer get attacked in front of one's home, abducted in broad daylight. To be extra assertive and playing defensive was wise, a keen offensive maneuver by those who held such pain in their hearts. Eusine balked for a few moments despite all this, not quite sure of how to respond to her abrupt questioning.

So he made up a lie, because in his mind, that would be the best solution; an innocent, white sheered tale to ensure the safety of the Carillon's identity, his own, and the many others involved. The Trainer was still the young girl she knew, and hopefully, after this day, Eusine wouldn't have to bother the poor woman again. She would never know of his farce.

"I'm a detective at the police station in Goldenrod. After you phoned Officer Jenny yesterday, she took the liberty of asking me to come down here today and see if I could gain any more information. I assure you, I am not one of those ruthless thugs."

* * *

How dare that wench even think she could get away with that disgusting act, how dare she think for one moment that he would allow her to simply go unpunished for spitting in his face, for disrespecting his person. This Carillon child was nothing more than a frustrating little brat, who gave no regard to anyone but herself. The cold man took an old master key from his deep pockets, producing the instrument and unlocking the pale door he had come to, further down the hall from the prison cells, lost in his irritated and raw thoughts. Striding into his office, the Rocket, out of pure frustration, eyed the contents on his desk, then reached forward and pummeled some important artifact to the floor. It landed with an ungracious smash, and he almost enjoyed the sound, the sight, of the splitting porcelain fragments, as he leaned on the heavy oak construction, head bowed deeply. It made him feel better, to feel that at least an inanimate object would bend to his will, gleam in peaceful pieces along the hardened floor, become broken and stay broken, incapable of being replaced into their former identity. But alas, the attempts at calming himself down were met to no avail, for a brisk, cold voice (it flowed with more petulant ice than his own) boomed over the communications device along his wall.

"Sounds like someone isn't getting anything accomplished."

Biting back a groan, or some hasty retort, he resolved to turn around and address his boss in the clear, television-like structure. Panic began to quell deep within his soul, but he fought against the rise of terror, instead, beginning to shout the ills of his latest efforts with the legend.

"The girl isn't agreeing to anything! She just sits there, or comes up with some snide remarks about how she's being treated unfairly, how she doesn't know what's going on. She won't abide by our terms. I've tried telling her that we're torturing her Pokemon, but all that does is produce tears."

"Resort to harsher means. Don't tell me you've gone soft. Use force if necessary. We need this girl on our side, and I don't care how you do it. Scare her into submission, terrify her until she says yes, but we can't lose this one. Failure is not an option. Without her, we won't be able to control Suicune. Do you understand?"

The boss received only a submitting nod from his subordinate.

"Good. Now I don't want to hear that you've failed again. Next time I talk to you, she better be more than just a sniveling child. I want her bending to **our** will, and no one else's, especially not her own. Don't allow yourself to be overcome by some pathetic girl."

The voice was promptly cut out as the speaker left the scene, leaving only the Rocket alone in his office. Heaving forth a bitter sigh, he looked at his door, grabbed the cool, metal handle, and upon entering the hall once more, made a turn towards the Carillon's cell yet again.

There couldn't be any failure. She had had enough time, that stinging sensation would undoubtedly still waft along her cheek, and if she contained any sort of intelligence, she wouldn't want that pain to resonate anywhere else either. He had half a notion that this Keiko girl would realize what was at stake, and would either break or become molded into a zombie beneath the weight of a thousand shadows. He didn't care about which option she took, just as long as she was torn away from her spitfire personality, frayed at the edges and losing what she had now. It was clear that she didn't understand the potential within her (especially with the fact that she wasn't even aware that she had been named Carillon), how Team Rocket could shape her into more than just a simple Trainer. She could have anything she wanted, could become whatever she aimed to be, and it would be so simple. Bow to their organization, believe in domination of the world, and everything would go according to plan. How hard was it to see that she could be anything at all, to simply believe in the Rockets and her wildest wishes would come true? Did she think of them as cruel? Ha. That was worth a laugh. She didn't know the meaning of the word.

Not yet, anyway.

The Rocket, too absorbed in his own thoughts to care about his surroundings, didn't notice the presence of a justified darkness hovering outside his office, a cape swishing across the floor, and a flaming haired stranger sneaking into the throngs of the door to his room before the click of the automatic lock.

* * *

The sliding door of Keiko's cell opened once more, perhaps fifteen minutes later than when it had closed. The Rocket had been correct in his affirmations; her cheek still stung horribly, her tongue running along the inside of her mouth in efforts to calm the quelling storm, but the numbing bound no enterprise of ceasing. She added it to the list of things currently ailing her, and firmly stared into the eyes of the Rocket as he entered her sights yet again. The smooth etching of his cruel voice grated against her senses, throbbed against the weight of the chains and made her wince in agony, eyes closing in despair.

"You have one more chance to reconsider."

The girl's brow lifted as eyes opened, and yet, despite that pain in her cheek, the aches all over her body, she couldn't help but force her tongue to move accordingly in retorting formations. She had become the embodiment of boldness at this point, despite the warning signs etched all over the tense and glowering Rocket, the thick tension boiling and seething along the thick chamber. Foolish or brave, only an audience could judge.

"Oh? Lucky me. Too bad I won't be taking it."

She was fraying every last inch of his nerves, the frustration he had felt earlier coming upon him ten-fold now. What was worse was the fact that his boss had enforced the pressure of the moment, his words echoing in the back of the Rocket's skull. The tall, smoldering figurine knew that he would have to resort to extreme measures, the likelihood growing each time the child opened her infuriating mouth.

"You will learn your place, girl."

His cold voice echoed across the vast chamber, yet she paid no heed, already enveloping her mind to a peaceful trance, her own method of blocking out the cruel master, thought of in his previous absence. She could envision her old home, overflowing with warmth and benevolence, or Rosa's wondrous farm, the sounds of Miltank mooing whistling along her eardrums. Keiko closed her eyes to imagine such wonderful things, enjoying the sights and sounds of the past, no matter how recent it seemed, unaware of the Rocket's change in physique before her. At the girl's continuing silence, his façade warped into nothing but sickened rage, and felt no resistance from his body as he raised a closed fist, and swung. She had crossed the line, and had to pay the price.

Both parties were surprised at the contact, the girl's cry of pain was thrown across the chamber, ignored by the occupants of the headquarters, despite the likelihood of being overheard. The man's eyes widened, stunned at his own actions, though narrowing to slits again as soon as he could regain his former posture. There was suddenly an insurmountable feeling of triumph clinging to the very core of his body, lifting him above and beyond the monstrosity of his deed. To hear her scream of terror, to make her hurt again, it gave him the most intense elation, pouring along fingertips, gliding to the inside of his dark, tarnished heart. Would she know who was in charge now? It would never be her bratty perseverance that dominated the situation, but his overbearing force of might and unholy terror. Now that he had leered along her face, ruined the peaceful entity it had solidified moments before, he wondered if he had completely destroyed her tranquility. He longed for it to be shattered, dead, cold as this disgusting room that she remained chained to. He wanted her destruction, her defeat, to learn of her breaking point. The formidable Rocket drew back, standing upright and glaring down at her, awaiting some sort of response other than muffled tears. There was a growing hope, as she lain in this filth, that the girl would now submit, that he wouldn't have to return to his boss with insufficient results, especially after the use of pain, of force, as a coercing and extreme measure.

Keiko's eye throbbed from the connection of power, the pounding in her eardrums only signaling the imminent swelling and onslaught of white flashes, the repeated puncture of pain over and over again was far too intense to take. The pressures of the evening before and the current day had taken a toll, not to mention the beatings she currently faced. In one fell swoop, the Rocket saw his problems further escalate, as the youth's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she promptly blacked out, becoming a brief, fluttering mess of silence.

* * *

Lance's patience was waning, fizzling as time passed in unwarranted, slow measures. He had paced around the Rocket's office numerous times, sifting through papers, stepping over pieces of shattered porcelain, listening to a bell ringing off in the distance, before finally giving up on finding anything worth his time. The computer upon the desk of whoever's office was distinctly absent of any sufficient information, at least in Lance's view, since he couldn't for the life of him guess the password to the damned contraption. There were a few precious moments where he had just wanted to smash the thing, but he soon realized after these thoughts that such actions wouldn't help anyone, and had opted to just take the plug out of the wall in spite.

Waiting for the Rocket return from whatever he was doing was becoming an infuriating task, and before long Lance had anxiously clambered into the man's spinning chair, thinking, waiting, before the click of a lock was heard.

His eyes widened, and quickly his long arm reached out to the light switch beside him. Crouching lowly by the edge of the swinging door, his presence enveloped by the heavy shadow wandering in, tiredly searching for the same enlightening crevasse Lance had recently dimmed. Amidst the small distraction, the dragon tamer took his chance.

The last thing the Rocket saw was a fist flying quickly into his face.

"Tough luck, buddy."

Lance smirked, proceeding to close the door before someone wandered by and saw the commotion, before giving a mock salute to the Rocket, snagging his keys, and making off down the hall with the man's cape across his back, replacing his own. With the giant crimson R emblazoned along his spine, the Champion assumed an important man's identity, and his influential keys, thus gaining access to anywhere he wanted in the vicinity. A few glares were sent to random, passing Grunts, sending them off in various directions in wide-eyed panic, and he only widened his smug grin at their antics. This was going to be a piece of cake.

Now, just to find the girl.

* * *

Despite rumors of the Rockets cunning, swift, narrow passageways and hints of an eternal labyrinth within the complex headquarters, Lance found that perhaps he had discovered a niche in their planning.

They were easily fooled.

The first door he entered with the special key revealed several scientists on computers, struggling away at haphazard typing and various tests. Some didn't bother looking up from their screens, though one brave one that held onto a jar of some suspicious looking green liquid peered over the rim of his glasses and gave Lance a scrutinizing glare.

"Do you need something, sir?"

The fact that he bothered to address Lance with respect meant the master had somehow managed to garner quite a good disguise, the obsidian cape was producing decent results in his regard, leading them to a faulty point in the scope of things. In his cunning way, Lance decided to use this specious décor while he had the chance, manifesting a certain form of queries in order to gain further information for his heroic mission.

"I do. I was not informed of the current whereabouts of the girl that was taken here, despite the fact that I've supposedly been instructed to question her. Perhaps you know of her location?"

At this, the scientist questioned, a rather small man with an intelligent gaze, seemed to envelop his entire façade into a smirk that could rival Lance's own. Due to the strange reaction, the dragon Trainer simply arched one brow in confusion and curiosity, nervous for an instant, perhaps he had blown his cover? He didn't warrant the anxiety across his own visage, layering it with the cool endeavors of stoic, impassive perfection.

"So Mr. I'm-In-Charge couldn't handle her, eh? Had to call you in? Well, regardless, she's down the hall a couple cells. I'd be careful, heard she was a feisty one."

Lance simply gave a respectable bob of his head to the man after he was given appropriate answers, and stepped carefully out of the room before rushing down the hallway. He didn't want to be caught, he didn't want to be noticed, and he certainly didn't want anyone gathering suspicion about him, especially some pathetic Grunts running around. Since he hadn't been given an approximate number for the cellblock Keiko was currently bound to, the trainer figured it wouldn't hurt to check out the rooms next door and further down, at any rate; she was on this floor.

Before long Lance had not only scared several Grunts out of their wits (even receiving some hurried bows at his very presence), but had recovered the Carillon's Pokemon, after giving out some reasonable excuse to the scientists. They had believed his tale; that they were completely incapable of testing the pathetic beasts and only his mind was worthy to beseech unto theirs, and escaped with them in hand, Pokeballs gathered with little hesitation.

Things were going far too smoothly, it made him feel lax and caught off guard. This heroic faction was moving along without a single problem, and he was regarding the shrinking shadows as though they would somehow reach out to snag him away from being the savior. Where were the dark demons hiding amongst these shivering eaves? Where were the enemies of this forsaken mission, where were the cruel figurines deigned as masters of manipulation, of sinister plots and reckless abandon? He felt lured and unaware, proceeding into a trap that rested upon him thinking that he was safe from harm. He didn't think his heart had ever beaten so fast.

The ringing of one solitary, chiming bell caught his attention as he wandered out of an empty prison hold, discarded and no doubt waiting for the next poor victim to be garnered into it's grasp, setting the master on alert for someone coming. Looking down the vast, long corridor of the specific hallway left nothing to be found, and so he proceeded towards the single room left, where the sound had seemingly resounded and disappeared. Just approaching the pale, sliding door left a foreboding presence in the back of his mind, a sense of urgency flashing about his skull, bouncing off in various degrees of excitement, anxiety and trepidation. The sense of something hollow, sinister, embroiled with haunting claims and cries seemed to comprise the entire entity of the door, the room, the entire portion of the single slab of hallway. Something awful had happened within these confinements, and already Lance felt sick to his stomach, breathing deeply to quell the desire of lurching any breakfast he had consumed. A chill lingered along his spine; he shuddered involuntarily at the cool touch of the key to the lock, pressing the instrument in one smooth motion, not noticing his hand had been shaking with the thought that the key wouldn't slide into this compartment, and only it. Fingers wrapped around the handle, escorting it sideways as he had done with all the others, half-expecting alarms to start screeching above him. When nothing happened, he breathed a sigh of relief, clambering into the room before anything else could appear and cause distinctive trouble and articulate chaos.

What he saw made him take back that softened breath of ease, and hitch his lungs into an overload of guilt and shame.


	5. Peal

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Pokemon.

All right, so this chapter is action-packed, finally! I tried to space it out as much as possible, because I know too much action is hard to read sometimes, and I certainly don't want to make my readers confused or unaware of what's going on. Due to this, the chapter is _slightly_ shorter than usual, so I apologize if this upsets anyone. Please sit back and relax, I implore you to enjoy!

* * *

_How soft the bell tolls,_

_How weak and fragile it seems._

_Let it stir, ring, clang, _

_Assure the strength inside is true._

The dragon master allowed himself the tiniest peek around the room before settling on the crumpled form of the girl, perhaps in fear that she would wither away and suffer more misery under the scrutiny of his gaze. The prison hold was disgusting and rotting with despair, as he had known and felt from the moment he touched the cold handle that granted access to the room. The space was vividly fraught with filth, the trainer had been chained to naught but squalor, and with each movement of his eyes Lance felt himself encompass the full shambles of regret. The tedious sweeping of his edged eyes left almost nothing overturned, even as he stood there in the shadowed silence. He was hovering over the thought of speaking and offering his utmost apologies, or cowering into the darkness with a warrant of a cowardly soul, amongst this decaying silence. The bile in his stomach rose to his throat, and only a harsh swallow pushed it back down as he glanced about the cell once more, before finally landing upon the martyred image of the Carillon.

Though he had never seen her before, though this was the first time he had ever even glanced upon her small frame, beneath the haunting look of anguish, the bitter pain floating along her façade, he knew there was a strong soul glittering along her depths. He stepped closer, tiny, demure movements, so as to not disturb the only peace she could have gotten throughout the day. The bold, tarnished look she held was striking, the marks, the bruises along her face (particularly one growing along her eye) made the Champion realize her great struggle in the preceding hours. Despite the onslaught she had been ravaged against, the Carillon had apparently withstood the brutal beatings, which only left Lance wondering how much longer it would have taken her to crack, how much more she would have had to suffer from their blunders and mistakes. She had cuts everywhere, slashes of all shapes and sizes, probably from being dragged across gnarled rocks, and the rusty chains that linked around her wrists and legs. Seeing her in this state only brought the realization home; she had suffered at the Rocket's brutality only due to Eusine and himself. There was no other excuse, no other reason, and viewing her in this moment of lost innocence made him feel ill over and over. The Rockets had put her in a position of unspeakable horror, locked away in this perverse cage like some wild animal, her only chance of salvation being a sacrifice of her humility and strength. Amber slits narrowed as he released a heavy sigh that had labored upon him as soon as he set foot within the confines of this particular room. They opened once more as a tense moment for him passed, raising a hand to the Carillon's head, easing it off her shoulder, where she had seemingly slumped in her unconscious state, and towards the wall, remaining gentle as possible.

When he drew back his calloused hand to return it to his side, observing skills caught the presence of aged crimson, and swiftly glancing to the back of her head, he proceeded with raising her off the wall again. As quietly and stealthily as possible, gently leaning her light frame against his own body, he began inspecting the old wound. The blood had long since dried, now just another reminder of the terror wrought against the fragile creature that was marked in legends. Another sigh raked across his lungs, and the dragon master rubbed his hand along the cloth of his cape, as though to remove the reminder of her suffering from his current thoughts, place it away for more guilt and regret that was to build in future hours.

All the movement made the Trainer stir, her slender eyes opening to narrow slits in a dreamy, sleepy aura, blurrily fixating on flaming red hair and muttering a groan that soon became audible to the Champion, sending him to a panic as she began speaking. Lance could only worry, plague himself with insecurities. She wasn't supposed to wake up, she wasn't supposed to question his presence, and she certainly wasn't supposed to see the guilty expression creasing along his token visage.

"Malcolm?"

All at once Lance thanked her confusion, since he obviously wasn't this Malcolm person, and hoped beyond all reason that she would just return to the lulling nature of unconsciousness. It would be easier to escape without her constantly questioning his every motive, especially in their current, dire situation. The master gave no response as he glanced to her face and saw bewildered eyes, swollen and poised into deluded portions of her visage, frozen to the exterior of the world despite her pain. He had half a mind to lay his hand over the roughened slits and slowly coax them hell bound, back to previous depths and some sweet dreamland, where diabolical men didn't steal people away from their existence.

"Go 'way Malcolm, I'm not going to battle you today."

She made some sort of arm shrug, her limb failing in the attempt of swatting the older trainer away, especially since it was currently shackled to naught but chains. After her random exclamation, Keiko appeared to drift back into a peaceful entity, consciousness fading away as she moved to lean her head back against the wall. Lance's third sigh was one of distilled relief and nothing more.

Due to her previously failed flailing moment, attention was drawn upon her shackles, clamped along her wrists and ankles like some hideous, monstrous vice. Taking the master key he had pocketed, Lance motioned it through the slender keyholes, and only a small grin landed upon his face when they popped open and released their prisoner.

He was just leaning down to grab the Carillon around her waist and prop her up when the click of another lock was heard, and his eyes roamed to the door of the prison as it quickly moved sideways to allow another occupant into the hold. Eyes widened and panic rose to his swiftly beating heart as he watched five Rockets enter the confines, their faces posed into triumph and glee as they turned to face his shambled exterior. He made no motion to move, frozen in time and place, stunned to the point where silence remained golden. The Rocket closest to the door ran his hand along a button Lance had failed to notice upon walking into the room, and suddenly a string of alarms rampaged through his eardrums. His lone mission was rapidly turning from a success into a downright, dismal failure.

* * *

"So, what did that Rosa woman say?"

Morty's curious, yet haggard, tired eyes glanced to the researcher across from him. Eusine fidgeted in his apparent anxiety, thoughts had been shifted to focus upon his interview instead of the obvious absence of a particular Champion and Carillon. He poised his long fingertips to rest along a smooth chin, before responding to the ghost trainer in morbid distraction.

"Not much that we didn't know already. She kept shifting from being stoic and impassive, to downright shrieking and tearing away at tissues. But good grief, the way the Rockets took Keiko away…they're such a monstrous bunch. They make me ill."

Morty glanced at the floor, traced away at the various patterns across Eusine's expensive rugs and tapestries, attempted to find semblance in the sinister tension of the day. He spoke, kept it quiet and disregarded, as though it was of no importance, and yet mended the fact that their worry was of no matter. There should be nothing to fear, no reason to shut down in the prospect of threats.

"Well, when she arrives, at least she won't have to worry about danger. We can protect her."

Eusine decided to offer no response, already drawn back to his scattered thoughts of Lance and Keiko. Were they all right, safe, secure? Had Lance been captured too? Was he currently suffering alongside the girl of legend? Would they ever make it back, vindicated and whole? Anxiety completely jumbled his thought process, the fragile webs constricted and coiled around one another with no precise or recorded order. He could no longer hide his impatience, polished foot beginning to make vivid tapping noises against his floor, the various rugs decorating the hardwood muffling the sound from possible echoing properties. Hands began to run through his hair, making it appear even more disastrous, disheveling any precious locks that had been in place moments before. Finally, an outburst accumulated in the back of his throat, being unleashed from a filled bottle.

"I can't take it anymore! Where are they? Why isn't Lance back yet?"

The ghost leader bobbed his head in response, yet raised his voice with a sense of quiet solitude, for there was an urgent sense to convince the researcher affirmed within his membrane, and thus he spoke without any hesitation murmured along his tongue.

"Have a little faith, Eusine. Lance will free her, I assure you."

* * *

"What is it about Champions that make them think they're better than everyone else? Always striding in here, trying to protect the world, longing to conquer evil, and then riding away on their white Rapidash. How very heroic. I bet the girls swoon."

There was a chuckling amongst the crowd of beasts as one proceeded to vocalize his thoughts, his snide teasing, his mocking of the dragon master. Lance knew deep down inside of him he had made a very poor decision in not disguising himself in full masquerade (having forgotten a pinnacle portion of his outfit), perhaps he had figured the Grunts were too slow to figure out that he was not of their own, and had poorly miscalculated their aptitude. He had been acting, playing a part in which he had clearly forgotten one too many lines; it was a shame no one had been waiting in the wings to recite them in perfect formation. When Lance didn't speak, found it incapable of uttering a single word, speech clung to the tip of his tongue in dire need of preservation, the Rocket from before spoke again, pondering over the state of things to the crowd and dragon expert.

"Tell me, Lance, why you seem to think you'll be making off with our Carillon? We're hardly done with her. Maybe if you play nice, you can have her once we're finished, if there's anything left. Finders keepers, losers weepers, y'see."

In an inspiring semblance of crimson coloration, the five Rockets released individual Pokemon, all shapes and sizes, all mundane, pathetic, weak, raised to the surface of the prison hold so that almost all the occupants were squished in the frail scenery. In quick motions Lance balanced the Carillon, her slumped form remained in the same degree as before, along the wall behind him, so that at least in the current tension she wouldn't be harmed and maimed, not again. She was the priority, the sole portion of this mission, and he didn't want to cause another mistake, especially a vital one in not protecting the legendary child from further agony. He was to be a sword and shield, and would hold both with unmistakable pride.

"Besides, you honestly didn't think we were just going to let you escape with our prize, did you?"

The Rockets, probably knowing they had no other opportunity to conquer, didn't allow the Champion to grab his own Pokeball from the decadent holster before proceeding with their attacks. There was a flap of wings, feathers, mud, muck, and various other assortments flying towards the flame-haired one. Instead of raising his arms in some defensive, cowering position to confront the Pokemon flourishing towards him, he instinctively ran his hand over a particular Pokemon of his own, and throwing the painted sphere into the air. He only wondered briefly if the Grunts were truly as thoughtless as they seemed. Since when would a Champion of all Pokemon not be able to conquer their weak beings? Everyone had lessons to learn, Lance had been given many educational moments in these last few seconds of tension and hostility, and frankly, he thought it necessary to deal his own unto the Grunts. He was a force to be reckoned with, not someone who backed down from challenges, but rose to confront them until he had been dubbed victor. This situation only made his pursuits more prevalent.

There were many gasps of surprise and shock, quick movements of flustered voices and bodies, as the beast unleashed came to fruition. The bony structure of its hollow wings beat against the tarnished walls and floor, its clawed feet ran along the soiled tiles and clashed with eerie decibels. The giant, dinosaur-like head protruded from a russet, elongated neck, the defiant screech from its vocals echoed along the inner chamber, released the fright amongst the Rockets, made them glance and stumble, falter and scream. The smirk wrapped around Lance's façade replaced the worried look of terror he had held in preceding instances, but now he found no reason to hesitate, to await their pathetic beatings with naught but a mercenary's visage. He had the upper hand, he had the power, he was the domineering force in this structure, and he wouldn't allow them to forget it.

Their Pokemon never had a chance.

"Aerodactyl, Ancientpower!"

Pokemon fell like projectiles, sinking into the depths of the dirty floor, fainting, wide-eyed with horror at the destructive rocks billowing towards them. Rockets ran madly, forgetting about their mild companions, teetering along the edge of losing their former courage and running away as soon as possible. The ground shook with destruction, massive boulders from the shrieking beast pummeling into walls, the power tearing down plaster and wood, making holes into the once small room. Alarms continued to ring off in variable tenors, if not growing as the danger for the Rocket headquarters became more imminent. Shouts and voices were somehow heard over the entire commotion, scientists and other Grunts running out of their offices and laboratories to witness the action and suppress the danger. Confusion brimmed across the course of their fortitudes, more than a few wondered where their ruthless leader was, no one realizing that he had been knocked out by Lance's heavy fist earlier (even the master didn't know of this truth, unaware of this fortuitous action). Even if they attempted to surmise another defense, without the leader's careful planning it would be naught but another collapse of fragile power.

All the while, Lance glanced back at the Carillon, his eyes widening a fraction upon realization that she was still unconscious, slumbering throughout the entire commotion as though absolutely nothing had occurred in these intense moments. Once he had finished the roll of his eyes at her complete lack of coherency, he nodded briefly to his Aerodactyl (who seemingly understood and stood to the side, wings flourishing in their massive span), and bent down to the slumped figurine. With little effort, he hoisted her lithe frame over his shoulder, one firm hand wrapped around her waist as she dangled over his back. He tossed his head over his shoulder to check on her, then with his free limb, waved to the Grunts who stood in various corners, shock written all over their faces. They could only stand, bewildered, confused and withdrawn from their mission as it was finally smothered along the seams, left in shambles and torn away.

"Looks like I'll be escaping with _my_ prize. It was nice chatting with you. Ta-ta."

With the same, cocky smirk he always seemed to grasp, the dragon master proceeded forward, walked towards his beloved rock flier, and managed to climb aboard its back with little trouble, despite the dead weight thrown across his backside. A calm voice reverberated from his vocals, collected in the intangible disarray.

"Aerodactyl, Hyper Beam the ceiling."

The blast that flew from the dragon's wide, open mouth could compare to no other, a blinding flash of light stunning those running in a chaotic panic, lifting their arms up to their visages, shielding the particles and rubble from hitting precious tokens of their person. There were several that tore away from the scene all together, allowing limbs to escape from the ferocious setting, incapable of awakening their senses to combat the formidable and terrifying power flowing from the flame-haired one.

The vivid attack left a rather distinguishable hole, one that left assurance that a flying dinosaur could manage to escape with little hindrance through the portal, glide into the skies and manage a rather awe-inspiring escape. With little encouragement from Lance, the beast began maneuvering its wings, gaining momentum and hitting various objects along the way, before lifting itself up through the ceiling. Luckily for the trio, the blast had not only taken care of the basement ceiling/first floor's tiling, but had managed to exterminate the surface of the tiny shop that had hidden the headquarters from view.

The three took to the skies, one not even knowing the chaos was all for her, the other two concerned with the dots on the horizon, heading right towards them.

Lance took the draped figurine along his shoulder down from her previous position, placing her flopping form along the body of the gliding monster in front of him, her legs on either side of the floating beast. He gently laid her aching cranium in between the crook of his neck and shoulder, and in the same turn, leaned down to steer his precious Pokemon. It was the only way to ensure her safety, despite his self-consciousness about the current position (wouldn't it make them look like some random lovers?). A deep sigh ran through him, though not of relief, as cool eyes searched the clouds, surveying the danger approaching. He should've known that damn alarm would signal every Rocket this side of Johto.

But he was ready for round two, if only because of the resting girl in front of him. He had kept his promise, renewed his sense of the world, and allowed his apologies to remain quiet, subdued to the one who deserved them. There was no way he was going to give her up now, not to these rotten monsters flooding the ground below, the disgusting minions causing a disturbance throughout the vivid scenery, not to anyone. The Carillon was to be delivered in safety, dipped in refreshed propriety, and with selfless, heroic grace.


	6. Flight to the Minaret

_Disclaimer: _I do not own Pokemon.

* * *

_Never be without hope,_

_It may become a faithful promise,_

_A divine salvation,_

_Awakening to save you on your last day._

_Who offers the reverie?_

_Find them within_

_The vivid skies,_

_The painted ground,_

_The dragon's breath,_

_The dog's bark._

_The shambles of broken moments._

The anxiety within the desolate corridor of Eusine's living room was beyond reasonable statutes, the suffocating atmosphere consistently lurked around each portion of the chamber, longing to stifle the two men impatiently waiting for any sort of information to pour into their minds. There was the sustained weight of helplessness bearing down on them, lingering only to stifle and corrode, slide them into the fury of misery and self-doubt. The shadowed unease and suspense shattered any patience that may have been fostered along the way, leaving only pale faces and worried glances flitting about the expanse. Here they were, two powerful men, and incapable of doing anything about the situation but wait in heavy anticipation. Both were becoming sickened by the magnitude of their weakness and vulnerability, shifting in the decadent silence, hoping in half-hearted gazes that they had done the right thing, commanded the right orders.

The quiet, the impetuous disregard of the world around him drove the fair-haired gym leader to lean along the embellished coffee table, snatching the remote from the polished sector, and switch on the rather large television set, if only to fill the room with some amount of noise. The flashing screen attracted the attention of the researcher, who had previously been twiddling his hands with no real clear direction, denoting where he felt in portion to life in this very instant. His eyes lifted and scoured the glass, while Morty rose from his position on the couch to snag some sort of beverage as his throat screamed for vigilance.

Eusine's shattering gasp had the ghost trainer racing back to the living room, long limbs carrying his person across the floor with powerful insistence, alarmed at the other man's expression; all the researcher could do was point at the television with shock written all over his face, now draining ever further of color. In confusion, Morty turned towards the entertainment of the day, the clear pictures fluidly roaming across the screen sending the emotional waves of alarm and elation to the leader all in one paralleled instant. Only the voice of the woman on the set drove him to pay attention to anything other than the images being displayed in various clips before becoming true, complex reality in the midst of his cranium. Her vocals were strained with excitement, the source of curiosity, speculation, questioning glances thrown this way and that, and Morty didn't know if he should eye her façade for truth, or witness the backdrop of images behind her to implicate the realism for himself.

"Breaking news from Mahogany Town! A commotion in the skies has been causing a disturbance throughout the area. Eyewitnesses have been reporting attacks from the clouds, and when zooming in, we are able to pinpoint many members from what appears to be Team Rocket, and…has it been confirmed that the other figure is the Champion of the Pokemon League, Lance?"

A man's voice was soon to answer, but all Morty and Eusine could do was stare. There was Lance, diving in amongst a crowd of Team Rocket members with only sinister looks along their visages, hovering on the border of ruin and defeat. Across his fierce Pokemon was the belle of the hour, the young Carillon. They saw it all, the stunned and protective masks of Lance, the vacant slumber of the child, and the triumphant glimmer set upon the Rockets. The cameraman was capturing emotions that he would never be able to see with his own eyes, never understand, and never contemplate in the same instance as the two sitting on the couch.

"Yes, Johanna. No one's exactly sure what's going on, but it appears that Lance of the Elite Four is fighting against the horde of Rockets. I'm not certain as to what caused the scene, and those being questioned are just as confused. Lance also appears to be with a girl, but we are unaware of her status or situation. The Goldenrod Police have stated that they will arrive shortly, as they are aware of the danger. We'll be sure to bring you more information as our investigations continue."

Somewhere in the midst of the preceding moments, the gym leader and researcher had been given the answers they had been so craving for. However, what was dangerously clear was that no one was out of the woods. The damsel and savior had escaped from the clutches of the demons, only to be thrust back into the chaotic hold of their poisonous claws. They weren't safe yet. There was still menace bearing down upon their beloved friends, both new and old, peril still mounting with every ambition to toil against familiar brethren.

In the growing silence, it only took a slender movement from Eusine to muster the necessities of the divine hour. The jingle of his car keys, the grabbing of his Pokeballs from the nearby stand, and the followed motions of the gym leader brought order to questions slandered across the world. This was their moment to share the duty of restoring salvation, and there was no time to lose.

* * *

Continually underestimating Team Rocket was becoming a hazard to Lance's health. The flying brigade had coasted in on their various winged Pokemon, each possessing a much grander course of power than their Grunt counterparts could ever hope to imagine. Lance wondered, altogether very briefly as he hovered over the body of the Carillon in a protective stance as another wave of attacks flooded his sights, where the Rockets had been hiding their glorious fighters.

Despite the motley fashion of their arrival, they knew how to attack, how to bombard and come so very close to conquering. Charizards would glide by, causing the sky to explode with flames. Crobats would screech with amazing ferocity, making those within the portal of earth grow deaf for key moments. Beedrill would fire darts of poison, drawing ever closer and closer, the ringing buzz growing hollow in the cortex of eardrums. They knew the true essence of battle, the distinction of strategy instead of blindly leaning into hostilities. All the while, Lance had been forced to be on the defensive.

A position he detested.

It was insufferable to the perfectionist, to be slated into an aspect of battle that he regularly did not partake in. Lance was a master, the Champion, the one everyone wanted to be. He had taken down many a trainer before him, and now he was thrown into this heralding faction calling for his desecration, to take away the trophy of the evening. He was incapable of calculating how many enemies were with him in the haze of the setting sun, likely due to the fact that they were constantly circling him, no matter what he did. Though always one step ahead of them, asking his Aerodactyl to perform some amazing stunts: diving, twirling, rising to the clouds, he hadn't gotten the chance to launch any offensive strategy. In fact, his brain was steadily running on empty. He had to hand it to the Rockets, it took a lot to rattle him (especially with his highlighted experiences), and they were giving a monumental effort on such a front, but that was the precipitated end of his praise.

A series of embers floated into his peripheral vision, and Lance was once more diving over the slumbering body of Keiko, protecting her from the flames. An audible muster of pain protruded from his mouth as a flame singed along his skin, and he urged the Aerodactyl to fly faster, a form of desperation amongst his thoughts that the Pokemon had never felt before. It was a rare moment indeed when the powerful master was coerced into a fit state of panic, and another entirely when he came almost open to admitting such weakness.

The terrifying creature keened, and rose further into the air, amongst the clouds, higher and higher, ascending the miraculous atmosphere as Lance attempted to collect himself. He wouldn't have much time before the Rockets ventured closer, and now was the moment that he had to draw himself away from any defensive maneuvers. He couldn't lose. There was no other option but to win, conquer, and ride away with sanctioned glory. The only other possibility was not meant for him or the girl strewn across his Pokemon, for that would mean the torrent of loss and pain, over and over again, singing haunting melodies of repeated mistakes. He would not allow anyone to unleash such a tempest. The girl was in his grasp, and no one else's. The hero shall not relinquish the dame, even in the hovering chance of defeat.

Steering his winged beast, the dragon master ordered it into descending motions, ready for a hell-raising spin into the depths below, a dangerous act that would surprise the masses that thought themselves grand enough to follow him. A smirk dabbled along his face, if only for a mere instance, to repair his former physique. Grabbing hold of the Carillon with both arms and hovering tightly over her lithe frame, the Champion gave the signal to his beloved flier as he wrapped his own legs around the creature. It was going to be a risky launch, and yet, he was prepared for the results. This was a chance that would not escape.

The monstrous dinosaur plunged towards earth, and all Lance could do was glance up for a few seconds before gravity forced his head back down beside the Carillon's shoulder. His amazing balance kept him aligned with the winged creature as they continued their downwards slope, the awe-inspiring blur and barrage of colors swarmed before the trainer's eyes, far beyond the whirlwind of control, taking in shapes that were distorted by the blinding speed. Clouds were seen in a fragile blink of the eye, and the Rockets came closer and closer, foreshadowing disaster unless Lance gave a specific command to his Pokemon. The beast would die for him, and if it had surmised that this was some suicidal mission, it would continue to beat its wings, and fly into the murky ground below. Luckily, Lance was not in such a position. As soon as the Rockets were in his focus, rising to meet his marvelous dragon, to try and eliminate the latest threat to their creation, the master cried out the appropriate command.

"Aerodactyl, Ancientpower all of them!"

With as much power as the demonic beast could muster, the boulders were fired. Some Rockets had heard the cry, maneuvered out of the way just in time to watch their comrades fall to earth with some sickening crunch. Bodies collided, screams of agony and twisted horror resounded in the hollow pit of the sky, Pokemon and human alike faltered, stumbled, before finally beginning their plummet to the ground. Crimson began to stain the surface below, painting the emerald grasses in vibrant blood, telling of the danger within the once immaculate welkin.

Had it been any other time or place, Lance may have felt sorry, apologetic for the circumstances of so many deaths. But as he told his divine beast to lift, climb into the heavens again, he felt nothing but immense satisfaction. Didn't the cruel beasts deserve the same sort of death, characteristic of the bloody massacres they had committed in the world? Didn't they receive justice, had he not just delivered it swiftly? Besides, had they not been after him and the precious Carillon? It simply served the demons right, and Lance had given no second thought at the demise of their persons.

Unfortunately, Lance's attacks had not been as successful as he would've liked. Several Rockets remained, now chasing him down in pure bloodlust, longing to enrich their lives with revenge for their fallen comrades, to capture the Champion, slay him without mercy. It made the situation all the more dire as time wore on, as the Aerodactyl began to tire, as Lance's mind began to cloud without a plan in sight. Flaming embers scorched his skin once more, seizing any portion of him in desperation.

The Rockets were closing in again when a loud explosion echoed across the valley of air, shocking their eardrums, stunning them into dissatisfaction. In response, the set of enemies looked down warily at flames licking the sky, at smoke hovering and coming towards the onslaught of the atmosphere, bending and fraying at the wind's preference. Lance also found himself distracted by the blast, cool eyes searching the ground below, beneath the thick smog, as he began to seize that golden opportunity to escapade away from the Rockets. He asked his faithful companion to once more drift hell bound, and received a satisfactory answer as they began to descend again, this time riding the waves of smoke. They were naught but blind refugees, while the rivals were visionless buffoons.

As the grass came into view, the bellowing crowds crying out in surprise, screaming in intense confusion and blistering panic, the Champion's slits scoured the cluster, perhaps hoping for that faint blink of recognition, a slim chance that someone he knew was filtered amongst the gaggle of strangers.

As luck would have it, two images became clear, two ringing voices that were distinct above all the others, gracing his eardrums with the indication that he was not alone in this fight. A blonde ghost trainer was racing beneath the Aerodactyl's shadow, a caped researcher not far behind, both waving their arms and crying out his name. The singed Electrode in Eusine's clutches was the clear answer to previous mysteries. His allies, no, friends had come through for him. He couldn't fathom how on earth they had known where he was, how to assist in this dangerous mission, but the sensation that he wasn't without his brethren in this battle was enough to remedy his thoughts in a slender instant. With Eusine and Morty came wit and safety, especially in the sanction of growing dread that he may not make it out alive. Now he knew that the Carillon and himself had made it, had arrived into the portals of protection. He could breathe easier, his heart could beat slower, and he could easily believe that the Rockets were no longer a threat.

They continued to race beneath him, in the gliding and confusing smoke, excellent cover from the chaotic embraces that the growing crowd and Rockets promised. When the dragon master felt it was safe, he allowed the Pokemon one last dive, landing safely along the banks of scoured grasses, stained in ruby plasma from slain carcasses marked by his own cruelty. In an instant, they were there beside him, taking it all in.

The Carillon stirred, for the first time since the Champion had taken to the skies, and the three men could only stare in disbelief. When her eyes did not reveal anything, when they did not become open portals, they took it as a sign of good graces, encompassing her peace into their own. She could continue slumbering in their miraculous hold. The silence that followed could be interpreted as cordial understanding between the trio, as Lance unwound his arms from the girl, lifting her away from his tired, haggard beast, and placing her into the outstretched, safe limbs of Morty.

He teetered away from his beloved Aerodactyl, placating the animal with serene pats and grand gestures of his thankfulness, weakly stumbling and bumbling from the day's events as he ushered it back into his Pokeball. It was as though he suddenly felt a great weight sink down onto his shoulders, his bones ached despite their petulant youth, his body shuddered as though it had been plunged into murky depths of chilling ice. Lance was tired, drained, finally allowing adrenaline to no longer pump through his lean frame, becoming nothing more than a shaking leaf on the wind. The master became startled as a hand flew to his shoulder, offering him a congratulatory pat as he turned to look upon Eusine, who was naught but a façade full of regal smiles and mirth. His voice broke the tension, alleviated the silence to become a mute point no one would draw back upon, showing nothing but a teasing tenor and faith in the man before him.

"Job well done, Lancelot."

The simple line made the dragon master crack a smirk, indulge in the whims of normalcy, almost forget that not moments before had he been battling for his and the girl's life.

"I thought I told you to never call me that."

It was Morty's voice that placated the scene, chuckling while holding the girl to his chest, her legs dangling over the edge of his toned arms, sending a reminder to the other two that this immortal day was not over, that all was still not well. Now was not the time to bask in the glory of the moment, but rather to return to safety, provide benevolence to the one who had had it shattered. There would be other moments to restore hope and invoke praise, to tease and taunt, relax and smile.

"All right, enough children. Let's get back to the mansion before the smoke clears and we're found. I do believe there is a certain Carillon that still requires our assistance."

At this, the others looked at the lithe girl, broken, battered, beaten and forlorn against the dimming sunlit sky. Lance peered with some sort of overt fondness, attempting to hide it beneath a worn mask of indifference and tired disbelief, but failing miserably in such regards. Eusine could only portray a visage of raw delight and pride, soon taken back and thus overflowing with sympathy and guilt as he regarded her wounds for the first time.

With hollow nods given to the gym leader, he marched on towards the trees, where his vehicle remained, hovering in the growing shadows of the evening. Lance could only smirk at their apparent thoughts for absolutely everything in the chaotic situation, from rescuing him in the perils of flight, to how to make the ultimate getaway under the cover of the night and petulant smoke continuing to dawn. He didn't think he could be more grateful for their astute regards then in that very moment, and hoped beyond all reason, that the Carillon somehow did too. She was safe now, and it was all because of them.

So they stole away from enemies, tore into the fringe of the forest, hidden and smug beneath the canvas of twilight, leaving demons to remain in bustling confusion.

* * *

Their arrival at the mansion was only shortly before Nurse Joy's own, at Eusine's hurried phone call and rushed insistence. They met the slender woman at the door, allowing her inside and leading her to the couch where they had gently laid the blessed bell. Lance watched from behind the comfortable resting place, witnessing the kind female's face twist from hushed serenity to distorted fury as her eyes roamed over to the peaceful Carillon. A warm hand reached out to move the child's face, only to peer at the amount of bruises and cuts lined across the precious visage, the particular mottling along the girl's eye making her gasp in sheer shock. A hollow, angry voice echoed from her vocals, replaced quickly by a gentle tenor, as though the disturbing property of her contempt had never been there.

"Rocket scum…I need to check out the rest of her, ensure that there's nothing more than bruises and cuts, the poor dear. Would someone mind taking her to another room while I grab my bandaging kit?"

Lance, being the closest to the two, leaned over to take the young trainer in his arms for what seemed the hundredth time that day, not wary of Nurse Joy's careful and probing eyes running over his own frame. Unfortunately for him, she noticed the burns stinging his skin, his tired, drifting gaze, his listless energy just asking for one more task before sauntering into the depths of slumber. As he rose with the Carillon in his limbs, Nurse Joy gave him one more scrutinizing look, at which he caught with his own eyes, felt them widen in surprise and slight apprehension. A grin flew to her mouth, answering his questioning look to the entire foray.

"And once I'm finished with the child, it's your turn, Master Lance. Those burns look awful, and I can probably give you something to restore your energy…"

The responding chuckles from Eusine and Morty made Lance forget that he should be disgruntled. It was the ringing laughter throughout the night that reminded him that he was alive, that all was well, and the petite trainer in his arms was going to be okay. They had escaped the grating teeth and shining claws of Team Rocket, had taken away a precious artifact from a mortal enemy, and intended to return her to her proper place in the world. The goal had been reached, even in the hold of divine danger, crying out in the heated night and dawning day. Everyone was safe, secure, peacefully tilted in the fabulously furnished home of the researcher. All was well.

And the journey was only beginning.


	7. Carignon

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Pokemon.

So, this is by far my favorite chapter, mostly due to the fact that a lot of conflicting personalities are finally going to be unleashed, and hey, who doesn't love dramatic tension? I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

* * *

_Never give up,_

_Never give in,_

_For even in the darkest days,_

_Listen for the ringing bells,_

_Chasing the dawn of warm memories,_

_Leading you to serenity._

The mansion had retained an essence of warmth in the evening of the rescue and the following morning, movement overflowing inside the fortitude with a frenzy of delight and cordial smiles. Within, there seemingly ignited a radiance of happiness, as though a long lost friend had just recently returned from a hard fought battle, weak and weary, but just and alive all the same. Where there had been an entity of worn fortitudes the previous day, a tired researcher's emotions echoing across the foray of his impeccable manor, now there was simply a miraculous candor, a grand uplifting of spirit. Maids hustled and bustled throughout vast hallways, all going about their chores with an array of affectionate undertones, excitement lavished across the course of their veins, trailing in their springing steps. Tales, intricate stories weaved from their mouths, and only those who had been trusted to keep the entire adventure locked the details away, at least in this poignant hour. Rumors continued to flood the stream of corridors regardless, young housekeepers coming up with riveting moments of daring intrigue, dramatic elements, giggling at the prospect of dashing heroes and screeching damsels, filling in the essence of the dwelling with exonerated bliss. Those passing by a particularly silent room ventured ever closer to the vivid door, streaking by with well wishes and hushed whispers to companions before racing off to fulfill their duties of the day, casting looks back at the portal as though mystified at the mere thought of the presence contained within.

The three masterminds of the day before all sat along the long table within the dining hall's hold, and despite the length of the furniture, had all elected to stay close by, at the end closest to the vibrant sunlight. The calm atmosphere was laden across each gentleman, from Eusine, to Morty, and finally unto the dragon master, Lance. There was no heated discussion, no ferocious argument, not even one solitary, laboring moment of intrigue passed between the trio; instead the abode was cast into a silent, tranquil state of peace. Eusine would casually raise his coffee-filled mug from time to time, taking slender sips from the freshly brewed beverage, before settling it down upon a coaster without one word uttered, eyes concentrating on nothing but the open window, soaking in petulant sunlight. Morty sat across from the researcher, his candid eyes flickering over a newspaper, every so often turning the pages with little regard for the stories (especially that of the Goldeen Awards or where the best Shellder reef gardens could be found), absorbing miniscule amounts of information while his mind was occupied with other things. Lance was a few chairs down from the two, fingers prodding at idle bandages wrapped around his arms, the smell of sterile gauze and antiseptic flowing towards his nose, instigating naught but a hushed annoyance.

Amidst the humble happiness and comfortable blanket of solitude placed upon the manor, it seemed as though the three men were casually waiting, allowing specific happenings to take their course without further effort on their part. Perhaps they anticipated an awakening breath, a priceless declaration of gratitude, an overwhelming cadence of heartfelt worth, assurance that all was for a greater good.

However, they didn't believe the immaculate serenity would be broken by a fierce scream.

* * *

Enthralled along the edge of consciousness, Keiko found a delectable solace, brimming with a strange, newfound aura of hope and benevolence. There was a gentleness laden about the aura in which she was contained, a current of tranquility and peace that made a soft sigh of content mewl from her vocals. The youth felt wrapped inside a warm embrace, an established decorum of sweet felicity flowing along the rapture of her veins. Faint movements embraced her arms and legs, and the responding ache made her eyes squint in disgruntled motions, soon shunting her into a moment of blinding consciousness.

What greeted her cerulean eyes was beyond the state of surprise to her cranium. Despite her sweet dreams, the ease of peace flowing across the various images, she had been expecting the filthy cell she had been imprisoned in. She figured that chains still held her to the ground, she assumed that a diabolical figure draped in obsidian would come marching up to her any moment, slap her across the visage once more. The picture Keiko received was vastly different, corrupting her eyes in pleasurable bouts of smiling sunlight, winking decadence, and petulant delicacy. Her hands raised themselves upon their own accord, rubbing her narrowed slits as though to alleviate the wondrous image and bring her soul back to the horror of yesterday. When it didn't go away, the girl allowed herself the liberty of staring, wondering, in confused possibilities.

Instead of a prison hold, she had been given a room of precious lavender, draped in curtains of creamy ivory, streamed with assortments of various china and adorned ornaments, all expensive, all sealed with a rich exterior.

Instead of chains and rusted links binding her to a dreary expanse, she had been given a bed cloaked in white satin, fluffy pillows capable of tilting her in whatever direction she wished to slumber in.

Instead of morose, corruptible filth, she had found a clean floor, wrought with hardwood and imported rugs.

Instead of her torn and frayed clothes, the maiden found herself immersed in delicate pajamas tinged in more ivory hues, the patterns childish yet still candidly decadent.

Instead of terror lurking across a formidable cell, she was only left with a feeling of grandeur and alluring contentment.

So she did what anyone would do when placed in a strange place, confused and completely unaware of how as to how they had arrived to such a world.

She let loose a bloodcurdling cry.

* * *

By the time the three men had run up the twirling staircase, Morty cursing Eusine every few moments for the monstrous amount of steps there happened to be, the commotion had escalated to grand heights. Maids poked their heads out of rooms, clearly confused and distressed by the clamor outside various chambers, and once seeing the problem, seemingly settling to watch with enthusiasm. Butlers chose to remain in the corners of their stations, occasionally leaning their craniums out to view the spectacle with unreadable facades.

As they reached the last step, the three raised their heads, only to find a rather alarming sight. Standing upon the top of the staircase was Keiko in all her messy, bandaged glory. It was obvious to the others that she clearly hadn't looked into a mirror recently, certainly not after unleashing her battle cry, for she looked a little bit worse for wear. Around one eye was a large bruise, unmistakable by its sheer size and daunting hue. Bandages were laced along her arms, and more could be seen if she lifted the pant legs of her pajamas. There were various scratches surveying her visage, one's that Nurse Joy clearly thought plausible enough to heal on their own, the scent of antiseptic rampant. Lance, having never seen the child in an awakened state, noticed the fire in her eyes, after chuckling for a couple moments at her appearance. They seemed vibrantly alive, a noticeable difference from when she had them closed, narrowed in hesitant pain, waiting for the world to crash down along her.

The three trainers could only stare, or laugh in Lance's case, at the image before them. Keiko just looked stunned, her eyes widening a fraction as they landed on Morty and Eusine, whom she had obviously met previously. The researcher thought for a brief moment that she would cease the angry torrent hovering along her visage, and then perhaps they could all talk reasonably…

Until of course, she released the Quilava.

After regretting putting her Pokeballs on a nearby stand within her bedroom, Eusine raised his hands in some surrendering stance, while Keiko attempted to draw closer, lingering on the threshold of the first step as though to scare them off, daring them to come within her distance so that her Pokemon could singe them alive. This action prompted Morty to glide down a step of the stairs, while Lance simply narrowed his eyes in annoyance, holding his ground even as the Quilava sprayed embers from his back, clearly intent on ruining the carpet. Keiko obviously decided to grace the men the same way she had done to the Rocket leader, with nothing more than malice and intended words of hatred. One could hardly blame her defenses. She couldn't help but question and query, especially after her bouts of torture and terror while in the confines of the Rocket's hold, and all the while standing so awkwardly in her pajamas and bandages, looking so out of place in the daunting hallway of the graceful mansion. Her voice was nothing more than a demanding fixture, craving answers, resounding off of gilded chandeliers and sweetly lit candles yearning from their flames, coming across as petulant screeches that had even excited maids covering their ears.

"What the hell is going on? Why am I here?"

Eusine struggled to answer, mumbling hesitantly, perhaps thinking that the nice trainer he had met within the Burned Tower was much more than he bargained for. He could admit, quietly in the webs of his own tangible mind, that he perhaps had not thought through the consequences of bringing Keiko to his home without suitable answers placed along her ears beforehand, but with her previously unconscious state, he hadn't had much choice. His hands still remained raised in front of his chest as his voice came across the frame of stairs, not wishing to goad her into more of a disheveled onslaught.

"What do you remember of yesterday, Keiko? Perhaps it would be…yes, it would be easier to start there."

Her demeanor was altered at the simple question, her façade now spurring into vivid arrays of thought, of the torture and horror of the day before, and yet, naught other than that seemed to enter conjectured pictures. She strained, tried to reach out to formidable memories and images, but nothing came to the forefront, leaving her mind feeling vacant and alone, hovering in the dark like a lost little flame. Her voice became quieter, a sublime tone instead of a beating peal ricocheting off of walls, as though she had come upon realization of her foolish behavior.

"Just-just that I was in Team Rocket's hold."

Before Eusine even had a chance to respond to the girl's reply, Lance smirked, beckoning, inviting a fray in his battle-embellished mind as he stepped closer, advancing on the child from the top stoop. The girl had been disrespectful, and despite the fact that reasons for such activity could be laced across anyone's tongue, the master omitted such thoughts and laid the foreshadowing dominion of chaos before him and the youth. They had all risked their lives for her sake, and her shrill candor of confusion and contempt was enough to commit him to rising to her unspoken challenge.

"Well then _Keiko_, perhaps you wouldn't mind ceasing your spoiled brat act, getting properly dressed, and meeting us downstairs to have a proper discussion."

When Keiko's eyes settled upon the frame of the formidable dragon trainer, they couldn't help but widen in disbelief, confusion, and distant admiration. He was the embodiment of the spitting image portraying his cocky, handsome mug lined across posters in her old home, the moving picture of infamous documentaries and news stories, the real, vivid, clear Champion of the Pokemon world. Despite her urge to leap up and down in surprise at meeting one of her idols, like many fangirls would do, the echo of his words finally rang along her eardrums, and she dropped the loopy smile that had formulated across her cheeks at his sudden appearance. Did the mystic trainer call her a spoiled brat? Did he imply that she wasn't dressed appropriately? She hadn't even dressed herself in such clothing! How dare he muster these declarations towards her! Waves of emotions fluttered across her visage, from anger in regards to his words and stupid smirk, to embarrassment at the realization that someone else had clothed her and that she was truly being reprimanded by one of the most respected trainers in the realm. There was an act of distress formulating across her membrane, and soon she found herself suddenly incapable of replying in some constructive methods to justify or defend her person.

So instead of establishing a worthy retort, the youth retreated from her station, lunging for the door with an indignant huff and cheeks stained in vibrant crimson, tearing away from the scene as quickly as she had rendered it. The Quilava tore after her, steadily gracing a paw down the side of a recently slammed door, begging to be let back into the confines and away from the stares of maids, butlers, and the other three trainers.

The researcher and gym trainer stood stunned in their respective places along the stairwell, the preceding narrowing his pupils in stifled annoyance, the other candidly broken across the wayside in deep wonder. The Champion simply proceeded down the steps, a haughty smirk embracing his lips, his cranium held high as though he had won yet another all important battle.

* * *

The meeting within the living room chambers reached a state of awkwardness and confusion early on, mostly due to the girl who continued to fidget under the scrutiny of Lance's smoldering gaze, Eusine's clever guise, and Morty's welcoming grin.

Once the researcher had carefully proceeded through the chain of events that had occurred around Keiko, the start of some grand adventure, and thorough explanations of her cumbersome status, there was a strain of silence, echoing and painful along the base of the room. The child didn't move, struggling under the weight pressing down upon her, snuggling against a vibrant cushion along the couch, the three men leaning against various armchairs littered across from her. There was this insurmountable force aching across her skull, an ache not stirred by the bruises along her façade and back of her head, but of the growing dread, seizing doubt, flowing along her thoughts as soon as Eusine's words had become immortal. _You are The Carillon._ To be fraught with such a title, to be told that she was now of legendary stature, that she was the one destined to poise amongst the beasts of mythical tales, her mind reeled and clamored, until nothing but a stuttering magnitude spilled from her mouth, meant to display the lunacy of such proclamations.

"I'm sorry, you-you must have the wrong trainer. I'm just trying to make my way in this life, collecting badges, catching Pokemon…there is nothing special about me. I'm afraid you're horribly mistaken."

Keiko did not look upon any of the men for replies, adjusting her cooled eyes to a sanction of the delicate linen beneath her feet, while the researcher, as though prepared for this sort of denial, easily formulated words to reply in earnest.

"My dear, you are the one who is mistaken. No one else could have freed the Legendary Dogs. You have been bestowed with honor of being The Carillon, the one being who could ever touch Suicune, who would ever deserve a chance at such a prize. You are special. Why can't you convince yourself of that?"

More silence, more petulant nerves binding and tightening as the seconds and minutes passed. The girl did not look up in her waves of uncertainty, in her blanketed doubts and heavy earnest to simply leave, run, escape from the moment and never be chased down again. It was Lance, in his own bitter frustration at how the scene was getting out of hand, that uttered callous words, determined to puncture the mindset of this fragile teenager, wishing for the previously strengthened girl to awaken and realize her glory.

"Why else would Team Rocket have kidnapped you? Do honestly think for one moment that they even bother to toil in the lives of those worthless to them? They wanted you in order to control Suicune. It's simple. How thick are you-"

He was effectively cut off as he stood in a standing position, leering over her tiny frame as she motioned to her own feet, lumbering with a degree of uncertainty before turning her visage to meet his. The cool, calculating eyes of Lance found naught in her own, a bumbling fakeness, a mask contained across her pupils, even as he searched for her brief, inner fire.

"You're absolutely right. How foolish of me. Of course, it was right in front of me all along. I am The Carillon. Well, thank you for the startling revelations gentlemen. I must be off to take a brief nap, let it all sink in, you know."

Her flat, quickly accepting words caused only a narrowing of Lance's eyes, shrouded immaculately with suspicion, and the fleeting departure of her lithe stature left the room encompassed in a degree of confusion and flared chaos. The dragon master turned towards the other two men in the room with a nonchalant shrug, and upon focusing on their faces, felt the room heat with viable anger.

Eusine removed himself from his armchair within a blink of an eye, striding over to the Champion, glaring and seething, a look unsightly for one so commonly masked in an aura of calm benevolence, causing the dragon master to step back in alarm and hesitancy at the other's intimidating frame. Cutting syllables and phrases stole across Eusine's teeth and tongue, roaming towards Lance's eardrums with a solidified tone of hostility and tension. Lance half-expected arm flailing and wild movements from the charmer, yet Eusine was far too composed and temperate in his behavior, he had no need to make exaggerated gestures to get his anger across. Instead, it came with biting tones and jagged edges, meant to ensnare and trap those foolish enough to invoke his wrath.

"How **dare **you. We're trying to make matters better for her, trying to tell her what she is, and yet, you continue to go on screwing it up! Allow me to make a suggestion _Elite Champion of the World_, don't speak to her, don't make eye contact with her, in fact, don't even stay in the same room as her."

The aforementioned Champion's eyes bulged from his sockets in surprise, arms raised in front of his chest in defensive procedure as Eusine continued to advance in his direction, spitting out words like a slithering cobra, poised to strike at any moment. Lance had clearly touched a nerve, yet the warning signs clearly displayed across Eusine's visage did not urge the master to cease his proclamations, instead his flashing temper rose to new heights as he attempted to defend his previous words.

"Now listen here Eusine, I'm just trying to ensure she ceases this poor-poor pitiful me act. She has to realize her role in this world, she has to understand what is being asked of her, not being an intolerable brat. We all have responsibilities and duties in life. She can't be coddled like some pathetic infant."

Morty had to rise from his chair and block Eusine's lunge toward Lance, standing in between the two feuding males, pushing the researcher back and sending glares in Lance's direction. The latter moved several steps back as he prepared for the onslaught of Eusine's furious, hissing retort.

"Listen to yourself! Just days ago you were telling me that we shouldn't say a word to her about being The Carillon. Now you're preaching ideals about how she has to step up. She's confused, she's disoriented, and she's trying to figure out her place. She doesn't understand what's going on, and you're not making things any better, you damn hypocrite."

"Fine, let her wallow in her pity, see how well she does then."

The final torrent of taunting jeers ended with Lance, Eusine managing to shrug Morty off of him and moving towards the kitchen, straightening out his rumpled clothing, a molten glare tormenting his handsome visage. The prickly conjectures of abrasive men faltered and died, leaving the echo of silence again, before Morty spoke to the Champion, noticing his hanging head of shame, painted in regret, chiming in the woes of melancholy. Despite all this, the lecture dancing across Morty's tongue continued its binding movements.

"Stop acting like a hot-headed fool, Lance. You're not angry with Eusine, you're just frustrated by the fact that the girl doesn't think like you. Not everyone can be ready for challenges, not everyone can tackle the world with some clever smirk and come out on top. We can't keep fighting amongst each other. We're all supposed to help one another, not quarrel and bicker like children. How is anything ever going to get accomplished like this?"

If he could feel any lower than dirt as Morty continued to be the voice of reason, Lance would have been surprised. The insightful proclamations made by the gym trainer made the other sick over his pathetic attempts, glower and simmer in decreed silence, still too proud to respond that he had been in the wrong. When given no reply, Morty went onwards in his motions.

"I advise you to apologize to both of our comrades."

* * *

As soon as Keiko had reached her new bed, she collapsed onto the fixture in a fit of hysterics. Frustration, anxiety, confusion, humiliation, and fear dripped down her cheeks in the form of tears, staining her fluffy white pillow in the disdain of darker tresses. Never had she been more befuddled, more petrified, for even in the containments of Team Rocket's monstrous tomb, she could focus her thoughts on the happiness of getting out, of continuing in her previous tales. Now that she had been rescued from such a plight, she was thrust into another, one that threatened her former lifestyle, her fragile existence, plummeting her into a sea of despair. She felt captured, led into ideals by the insistent tug of a dragon master (who was nothing at all like she imagined), a charming benefactor, and a familiar gym trainer. She didn't know where the trail led, when the winding path came to a stop, or why she was even traversing down such lanes.

She was already regretting taking the venture into the Burned Tower. None of this would have happened had she not followed stupid Malcolm in there, prodding her nose into his business and ignoring her own pitfalls.

Keiko's muffled sobs drowned out the angry shouting floors below her, the quarreling men downstairs making her smother her face further into the pillow, the lapse of company detailing the room into more hollow proportions. She had spent a day on the edge of the abyss, and now that she was finally around people, Keiko felt like she was some prize, polished and shining. Her thoughts didn't cease there, feelings floating upon the charade of intruding upon encompassing finds, being summoned only when it was suitable, when her presence was necessary for some future enterprise. It made her feel sick, this dire revulsion flooding her sights, eyes narrowing together into tiny slits as more tears leaked from their core. What made her situation even worse was the fact that she didn't know what to do, thrown into the brink of ignorance and swimming in its open water, and she had the distant feeling that Lance would allow her to drown. The tension in the depths below made her all the more nauseous.

Rising from the bed, wiping tears away on a vacant sleeve and sniffling vaguely, the young trainer came to a decision. Selfish or not, she couldn't help but feel she didn't belong here. No matter what they had done for her, rescued her pathetic frame from the hazards of hell, she couldn't stay within these confines, locked away and crying the day away. The men were already distracted with themselves, the room was no doubt ready to explode with hostile movements and remarks, and so the girl tugged on a familiar Pokeball from her belt. Leaning outside her high window, she allowed the ringing echo of rumbling tones to encompass the ground below, forming into the massive rock snake that had tried so hard to rescue her before. Now the monstrous beast could finally claim that wish.

A dainty smile poked across Keiko's lips, enveloping her façade in an uncharacteristic mask, attempting to alleviate the worry that flooded across her Pokemon's own expression. She brought a finger to her mouth, signaling the serpent to remain quiet, before releasing familiar, sweet tones to the beast.

"I've got to get out of here, Rocky. Be quiet, and raise your head so I can climb out this window. We can't let them hear us, or we'll be in big trouble, okay?"

Receiving the confirmation of her instructions with the Onix's movements, his massive cranium rising to her outstretched foot now faltering outside the window, Keiko smiled once more before they made their way into the day, a fixture of rumbling vocals not heard by distracted men.

* * *

Lance's march of shame up the domineering stairs was slow and methodical, giving him time to review his rehearsed lines that would flood to the girl, half-hoping he would only have to issue a simplistic apology and that would be the end of it. In truth, he knew naught was so easy (especially with teenage girls, of all people). Reaching the top of the steps, he wandered to the familiar doorframe, wishing something would leap out to probe his thoughts and alleviate him from this strange situation. A bitter sigh flowed through his towering frame as nothing came about, leaving him to the doom of knocking on the oak structure, his hand fumbling along the wooden entrance.

When given no reply, perhaps she had sensed who it was and still remained infuriated with him, he slid his calloused hand to the knob, no longer entreating her to privacy as he opened the strong border. Confusion flickered across his eyes as he stared into a vast emptiness. There was no body across the bed, no lithe frame cowering in a corner, and when he searched, there was no youth tucked away in a closet. He advanced, stumbling about in bewilderment, before realization finally took place. She was gone, had fled while they were busy, taking her soul out of the equation of this strange masterpiece, just as she had wanted. He couldn't help but chuckle at the situation, fumbling tiredly, grasping his vocals in a raspy tenor reserved only for the thickening plume of this hazardous life.

"I liked her a lot better when she was unconscious."

* * *

Oh, what a bunch of brats (I honestly entertained myself a bit too much by writing this, as I'm sure many of you gathered). X)

I know, I know, you're probably all chastising me. After all that work by Lance, Morty, and Eusine, to just have Keiko leave safety? Egads! Well, I'm sure we all understand the mind of adolescents, and how a lot of what they do makes absolutely no sense. Besides, these characters all have their flaws, which makes writing this story all the more fun. Don't you worry, we'll have amusing/clashing reunions in the next chapter, I promise. ;D Don't hesitate to leave reviews/comments/concerns/suggestions, I'd love to hear from you.


	8. The Melody of Vesper and Angelus

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Pokemon.

I apologize for not updating as quickly as I usually do, midterm exams take a lot out of you. But the story is back in action!

* * *

_So tangled in our own webs,  
We forget the frayed ends._

* * *

"They're absolutely dreadful, Rosa. Especially that Lance! Of all the pompous, arrogant, no good dirt bags I've ever met…"

Keiko's lanky arms gestured wildly in mid-air, as they had been for the past five minutes in avid frustration, brow furrowed and locked into place, construed into simple angles of taught anger. Her grumbling and complaining about the three men she had escaped from didn't cease, only this time she began muttering under her breath into some inaudible terms, no doubt words and curses she felt did not need to be heard by the gentle Rosa's ears.

At some point Rosa had managed to placate the child, taking one of her flying hands and delicately placing it in her own soft limbs, patting Keiko soothingly while the girl continued to detail her suffering. The youth had already informed her of what had occurred after she had been snatched out of the farmyard's grasp, to which the plump woman could only murmur her sorrows and dutiful apologies to the girl. There was an enriching fortitude that the child felt now, back in the arms of some suitable surrogate mother, protected and safe. It was here that she was away from the haunted entrails of Team Rocket and disturbing notions of a researcher, demon trainer, and bratty Champion. She didn't feel threatened or trapped in the shambled and broken farmhouse, and instead felt wrapped in the warmth of its exterior, a relaxing blanket of benevolence. There were no demeaning gestures and expressions within the hold of the frayed fortress, only pleasant conversations, an inner peace that didn't linger in a giant mansion contorted into fragments of another, unknown world.

Rosa slid away from the table, leaving the sitting girl to herself, struggling to clean up the stained contents as best she could, remaining busy as she began to speak with Keiko once more.

"Perhaps you could talk to them again, dear? Make them understand your concerns-"

"I've tried that Rosa! There's no talking to these men. I mean, I get that they rescued me and all, that I should be grateful and everything…and I am, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to be in that hollow, empty mansion with these strange people. I don't know what they want from me. I'm certainly not what they think I am."

Before the woman could respond to the girl, a loud knock was heard upon the oak entrance to the farmhouse, causing Rosa to amble over to the door, entreating Keiko with a hand to continue sitting down as the child went to rise. The trainer heaved forth a sigh before crashing her head to the dingy table, resting her forehead on folded arms, keeping eyes trained on the mottled finish along the dining surface.

The muffled voices carried across the entrance hall into the dining room, which Keiko strained to hear with great difficulty, curiosity getting the better of her. When she realized it was impossible, and altogether a little rude, she gave up and returned to mourning her current interludes in life, not bothering to lift her head until the now audible sounds of footsteps, two sets, approached. One seemed remarkably hesitant, ceasing the vigilance of moving, a body drinking in the shadows of the afternoon sun parading across the floor. Keiko swiveled her cranium to study Rosa and the weak smile now formulating across the other woman's visage, pausing to wipe away tears of frustration that had recently begun to leak out.

Rosa seemed strained, her façade pulled tightly into a mask of endearing politeness, while the shadowy frame behind her did not bother to move forward and claim an identity, uncomfortably shifting from place to place.

"Keiko dear, someone is here to see you."

Finally, the creature in the darkness advanced, causing Keiko to maneuver her head around Rosa's frame in order to view the visitor. Her eyes were first drawn to a formidable and familiar cape draped across a lean back, to a handsome face now straining to recover some formerly impassive gaze, adorned with hair lined in crimson. At the man's approach, as the truth of his demeanor settled in, the child's face had warped from a pleasant charade to a disgusted, loathing feature, eyes roaming his in sickened rage. Her voice cracked into one of contempt and bottled anger, contracting into simple words dripping with poison.

"Oh great. You."

* * *

Lance had never been one to apologize. The simple notion of saying sorry to someone hadn't managed to ingrain itself into his mind, since it wasn't altogether pleasant nor something he ever actually wanted to do. For one, the action implied he had actually done something wrong, and despite all the blunders he had made over his twenty years of life, he believed them to be completely justified, and therefore, not punishable by doting on forgiveness. Perhaps at some point he had been capable of admitting guilt for some absurd reason, maybe when he was a child he had taken his father's Pokemon without permission and had to excuse his rather reckless behavior, but clearly he had grown out of those nonsensical ways. So it was obvious to him that treating the Carillon like the brat she had been was not a flawed moment of stupidity, but in fact, a notion intended for the child to understand that such behavior was not warranted, and that she should change her pathetic attitude.

Unfortunately for the dragon master, neither Eusine nor Morty saw it that way.

After they had bickered and quarreled for a decent hour, with the researcher and gym trainer ganging up on the Champion at every chance, a solution had been found to remedy the dire situation.

Lance; the hot-headed idiot who had caused all the trouble with Keiko in the first place, would not only retrieve her from wherever she had gone, but also offer words of pardon to the offended mistress of the legendary dogs.

The flame-haired trainer had never been so frustrated or hesitant in his entire life. It was one thing to have to apologize at all; it was another to actually have to admit wrongdoing to some naive teenager with far too much ignorance of the world imprinted in her eyes. With a bitterly swallowed sigh, the Champion opened his mouth, intending to get the sobering moment of forgiveness over quickly, before stumbling over the prescribed words like some inexperienced child.

"I…uh, came to say that I'm…s-so-"

"Save it. I don't want to hear what you have to say."

The interruption was followed by a fluttering of movements, the body of a young girl disappearing around a corner with a fluid wrath lit upon her face, and a disgruntled, passionate embrace of hatred following suit as the dragon man rushed out the same door the child chose to exit. Rosa chose to remain in the divided, shadowed section of the kitchen and entryway, utterly stunned by the immature proceedings of both trainers.

In the afternoon sun, the foreboding battle of words began, back and forth, twisting in various complex mainstreams, spewed from open mouths that not only threatened condescending portions, but also completely delivered them in formidable mannerisms without hesitation. The shouts rustled from both throats, and the local wildlife gave up the thought of peace and chose to leave the area in hope of finding serenity in another stead, seeking a place of rest away from screeching vocals grinding against eardrums.

"Keiko dammit, I need to talk to you!"

The Champion's movements were rushed and not altogether fluid, a mixture of long limbs trying to gather themselves in close proximity to the girl, so that perhaps he had either the chance of her actually listening to him, or throttling her to the point where she had to comply with his wishes, regardless of her own. Keiko's motions were abrasive and charred into a fury of contempt, nose lifted high into the air and flowing with an arrogant tendency that filtered through her membrane at times of direct conflict. The female didn't dare turn around, she'd probably witness an angry sight, and instead, chose to advance towards the forest lining, as though something within such cool, crisp depths would take her from the advancing oaf and offer a plentiful solace.

"Lance, I don't want anything to do with you. You made it quite clear that I'm not fit for this role, so if you would kindly let me be, we can both be on our ways. Besides, I have to figure out a way to get a badge from Morty…without actually seeing him."

The child's walking motions were quickly halted by an abrupt pull on her arm, the iron-grip of the other trainer binding along her limb easily. He had been apt at ceasing her from all other movements except the icy turn of her head, the penetrating, angry glare fiercely battling his own smoldering gaze. Keiko's struggles were amiss, the tenacious grasp of Lance could not be abashed, but she did not settle, prompting the master to grind his teeth in annoyance.

"Listen, I'm trying to be civil here. I just came out to apologize and admit I made a mistake in judging you. There, better now?"

Keiko's furrowed brow didn't diminish, and after his words finished, she finally managed to tug her arm away from his hold, only to be followed with the action of her speech maintaining a grating edge of incapable rage, an immeasurable fire.

"Better now? You think I'm going to be _better now_? You people waltzed into my life without giving me a moment's notice! You decided I was a fool when I simply didn't know what was going on. What was I supposed to do in that kind of situation-be calm and bask under your every word?"

The Champion had been moved, stunned into silence, his remarkably impassive gaze faltering into a widened proportion of apprehension as the child's voice continued to screech and slander his eardrums in extreme displeasure. But besides such motions, there was guilt surfacing again (the knowing thoughts he had had before issuing the youth a demeaning proclamation), pummeling at his membrane, and oddly enough he felt like he was shrinking before the wrath of the girl. Keiko had obviously been stewing for a long time, polishing her inner reactions to each particle of the words spoken to her in previous meetings, until she finally exploded.

"I don't know if I can even trust you people! Sure, you rescued me, but how I do know that wasn't for your own benefit? How are you any different from Team Rocket?"

At her last ferocious query, Lance had finally had enough, pacing himself to finally get a word in edgewise above her torrent of syllables and disbelief, though it was made in a snarky, facetious tone, a fool's mistake.

"Well, let's see, I don't believe we've beaten you into submission or tried to break you until you succumbed under pressure yet. See, we decided to take you away from such a vile prison to put you in one of our own. I'm sure you noticed the very demeaning silk sheets or that huge closet. I can't believe you saw through our trap."

If the dragon tamer had thought that the teenager had already reached her boiling limit, he was so very wrong. A chilling, icy demeanor seemed to settle upon her, and Lance felt the urge to back away slowly, his snide comments and rolling eyes having furthered the endangering of his life by a tiny, teenage girl.

"Oh good, I'm really glad that this is all some big joke to you. _Lance the Invincible Champion of the World _isn't worried, hell, why should I be?"

Even with Lance being surprised at Keiko and Eusine's rather coincidental nicknames for him, which was beginning to get rather old, he continued in the plaguing onslaught of raised voices, trying desperately to salvage the situation.

"Look, Keiko, you're being highly irrational-"

"Irrational? I've just been thrown into this fray of saving the world and conquering evil, do you expect me to be content? Besides, how do you know this isn't just one big mistake? I'm nothing special, I've told you that before. All I've wanted to do in life was breed, raise and train my very own Pokemon, accomplish simple tasks. This is far beyond that."

Her voice had diminished in power and spite in the last few comments, brimming down into a small whisper that was only audible to those that stood closely and in wait for her speech. Unfortunately, Lance had no other answer for her but a deepening sigh and the swimming thoughts circling his mind, realizing that this was going to be a lengthy evening full of rants and long-winded attempts at placating a teenager's fragile self-esteem.

However, the two trainers, who had been far too caught up in themselves, had failed to notice the thick and growing mist circling around their lanky and lithe frames. It hovered from beginning to end, slowly gathering more and more billowing proportions, until all that remained to be seen were the humans, shouting in the brink of the powerful labyrinth. Remains of the nearby forest glade were covered and hidden, begging for those lost to turn back and grapple for their forgotten trails. The fog lulled and hovered in wait, until finally silence proclaimed it necessary for both Keiko and Lance to swivel and twist their craniums in apparent confusion.

A tremendous roar broke through the confounding tension, sending different reactions to each trainer as it was distinguished in their eardrums. Lance received a chill, shifting in different degrees down his spine, gathering in his brain the warning sign of an impending attack, or simply a decree to stay away, signifying the approach of something unknown. Never before had he been rendered so completely stunned by the apprehension in the waylaying dusk, surrounded by the mystifying pull of the dimming shadows and obscure haze, blinking and shivering in the midst of the growing mystery. By cautionary procedures, he drew himself closer to the child, focusing his attention on movements beyond the brume.

Keiko, on the other hand, sensed a familiar tug as the reverberating bugle washed over her, drawing her emotions to a stringing salute of serenity, basking in the haunting glow of a now hushed throng. She did not feel a dangerous presence lingering from the air, simply a heralding of inner calm and tranquility, despite her silent queries due to the hovering vapor. Her heart beat slowly, as though she was being pressed into deep slumber, where there was naught but peaceful, sweet dreams, and that when she awakened, fear would never be apparent. There was a listless weight pressing on her, signaling that something was waiting for her, shrouded in the veil of ominous twilight and fog. Her long legs began to move at their own accord, away from the overbearing protection of the master trainer, towards the brink of the unknown, one arm raised to meet the slender touch of the mist with a fragile tenderness. Only the voice of the Champion brought her out of her trance, caused her to lapse from the pull of the mystery for several moments, as the mist strained to bring her back and continue on her wayward movements.

"Keiko-"

His whisper was quiet, believing if it were any louder the tenor would disturb the strange atmosphere, though his voice was layered and construed in desperate, warning tones, begging her to stray no further and risk the punishment of the unknown. All he was given in response was a slender grin painting her façade, glimmering and mocking his hesitation, and she glanced back to the laden mist with no feeling of trepidation, arm still raised, still reaching for the imagined creature that awaited her presence.

Neither trainer had to wait very long, as Keiko gasped at the smooth sensation beneath her fingertips, and the foreboding canine made his debut onto the grounds with immaculate silence and patience.

Lance could only stare in disbelief as the cerulean beast pushed his way forward, the untouchable grace of the canine formulated before his very eyes, a sight few were to ever witness. From the rhombus dapples scattered across his hide, the violet cape protruding from his cranium, the crystallized diamond glinting off of the daunting portions of the day, the dancing ivory ribbons taking shape and dominating the expanse, the reverberations of power radiated off of the formidable creature. There would never be any doubts to his glory or purity, for even basking in the presence of the crimson eyes the Pokemon possessed, Lance felt incredibly sinful and out of place, too unworthy to witness the apparition of this beautiful legend that was Suicune. Oddly enough, while Keiko seemed fixated in the silent atmosphere, the Champion was being plagued by ringing bells, a cacophony of pleasant melodies, yet remained completely entranced by the scene before him, not bothering to question the string of tones.

The massive animal towered over the tiny girl, yet she continued to feel nothing but bliss, completely forgetting the former tension between her and Lance, leaving him alone in the berth of swirling mist. Her fragile fingertips lingered over the brilliant formations brimming across the canine's skull, and he pressed back against her, as though cherishing the simple movements and begging for more. Each touch by Keiko only brought on the strange sensations of echoing droplets surfacing along the throng of her ears, of wondrous dew brushing against her senses, leaving a slender grin to glide along her features as the Pokemon drew ever closer. The legend's scent overpowered Keiko's mind as much as his easygoing feel, significantly poignant of sweet, everlasting springs, of high peaks and daunting mountains, lush waterfalls rushing into pleasant lakes.

His head remained low and towards her, never hesitating in the presence of his precious Carillon, and Keiko had never felt safer than now, in the shadow of the awe-inspiring canine. Each moment was beautiful, radiant and full of nothing but an amazing tranquility, making the young girl wish the time would never end, that the clock would cease ticking and she could stay in this wondrous presence for eternity. When she had unleashed the fury of the dogs within the Burnt Tower, the youth never imagined something like this, a radiant material appearing before her eyes, rendering her completely immobile and full of nothing but soothing emotions. There was no danger, only serene grace dancing across the factions of heavy mist. To think that she may be the only one to ever have the power to touch the divine canine left an overwhelming feeling contorting to her heart, pulsating in hesitant and yet, conflicting thoughts of hope and resonating dreams.

In the next instant the moment was destroyed for the implemented tool of the future, ending in a formidable rush of chilling wind, leaving the child feeling alone and cold without the glow of the legend. The test was over, to continue in another moment, in another time and place. Shivers ran down Keiko's spine, and as soon as she lapsed from the sanctity of Suicune's warmth, she found herself faltering, limbs giving way and sliding to the ground, only to be caught in the firm grip of the red-haired Champion's arms. His next set of words and lingering smirk, however, couldn't wash over the feeling of elate happiness touching over every pinnacle of her lithe frame as she looked up at his visage, radiating in a blissful sanction of her cerulean eyes.

"Do you think we made a mistake now? Moron."

* * *

_Tests shall ensue,  
But only the cerulean droplet can hunt.  
Chime again, sweet soul,  
With your kindred spirit,  
And thus you shall find the beast by your side._


	9. Chancel

_Disclaimer_: I don't own Pokemon.

I apologize for lack of recent updates. Real life stinks. Regardless, here's an extra-long chapter for your enjoyment. It's full of plot and character developments, so I hope that my lovely readers find it up to par. Also, I must say, at this moment in time, The Carillon has over 700 hits, which I'm quite happy with! Thank you to those who take the time to read and/or review.

* * *

_Even when the sun no longer touches,_

_Even when the moon no longer glows,_

_Simply remember,_

_You are not alone in your fight._

* * *

A distinct change in the atmosphere had risen over the darkening horizon, a piqued effort at politeness shrouded over the back porch of Rosa's farm, the land no longer seething with contempt and loathing. Instead, there was naught more than a subdued lull in the echo of screaming and yelling retorts. The distant shrubbery and timber were content to bask in the calm, languid loam, wildlife slumbering quietly, having returned when the crashing of voices no longer choked the lands. Without the previously contorting, twisting rage, the extended valley was all too happy to resort back to natural tendencies, dreaming away as the sun landed on the other side of the world. 

The plump woman watched the previously two screeching individuals talk quietly, simply amongst themselves along the careful wooden frame, occupied by steaming mugs of hot chocolate and idle chatter, before turning to the phone and tapping the numbers to talk to an old friend, embracing the lingering still of comrades. Rosa felt she no longer had to worry as she had done hours before, in the throng of the doorway, seeing no movement in the fray of blanketing fog, but having to endure the angry, hostile screams and sudden, worrying whispers. She would never be able to fully understand what had happened within the floating brume, but then again, neither would the two trainers.

Lance remained in the stretched position he had claimed previously, occupying most of the wooden porch with his lanky body, allowing his arms to hold up his lean frame behind his back and eyes facing the stars. Keiko had been forced to the corner closest to him, hands wrapped around her warm mug, soft lips pursed in thought, brow furrowed as though contemplating something difficult to decipher and utterly world-changing. They sat on a strange, neutral ground now, testing the waters of a vacant truce, speculating over when the other would snap and return to varying shrills, uncertain if this would be the normalcy between them. The dragon master continued to appreciate the hushed silence for as long as he could, closing the lids of his eyes and basking in the haze of hesitant peace, which didn't last as the girl spoke up rather loudly.

"Aha! I got one! I can't believe I didn't ask it earlier!"

The Champion had to admit her voice, one contrived of ringing tones (reminding him so avidly of her legendary namesake), sounded a lot more pleasant when it wasn't screeching at high decibels and making his eardrums quake with anxiety. He opened the eye closest to her lithe, curled frame, looking on with apparent, bored disinterest, before shutting it once more and answering the girl with his own mocking candor.

"Well, get on with it then. You're taking too long with your turns. I'd like to return to Eusine's before I'm eighty."

Taking the best route and not rising to his unspoken challenge, Keiko turned to him, her façade a host of differing features, mainly contrived into a suspicious narrowing of the eyes, as though she had caught him in some underlying trap. She even managed to point one small, thin finger towards him in an accusatory manner, which didn't cause much of a reaction whatsoever from the opposing ally.

"How on earth did you find me? I could have been in anywhere in Johto, and it's such a big place, you would have never had the chance-"

Lance effectively cut off the Carillon's ramble, since he honestly didn't want to listen to her future remarks about how glorious each land was, where all her hiding spots could be, and _oh my goodness_, Goldenrod just has the most beautiful flowers…

"We had a tracker put on you when you were brought to the mansion. Don't bother trying to find it if you didn't know you had one in the first place."

In response the child flushed a bright crimson, which the dragon master didn't catch, having not bothered to open his slits for several minutes. Keiko had a brief fluttering moment where she was quite inclined to begin ranting and raving again, longing to damn his insufferable attitude, but found herself liking the peace a bit more than the triumph of annoying him further, despite her frustration. Their silent pact after Suicune's rapid appearance and departure was not to be tarnished; a rare moment of sanity amongst the conflicting personalities was cordially welcomed, and by no means was it a lingering sanctity only to be ruined and condemned. She quelled her inner fire, and instead, clung to her chiming voice once more, allowing it to brim over the realm of tranquility in quiet acquiescence, which should have been a crimson flag to the Champion over her reprisal of melancholy.

"Why do you think I can save the world, or even destroy Team Rocket? What have I done to prove anything to you…I'm just a beginning trainer-"

The teenager was once again cut off by an abrupt snort from Lance, whom had since opened his eyes, flashing his signature look of mocking fashions, and continued in his snide mannerisms and motions by fortifying his voice against the plain.

"Tsk tsk, I do believe it's my turn now. How dare you rush ahead with your angst-filled queries. Do you not like following the rules, _dear_ Carillon?"

The sarcastic tones hailing from Lance only gave way to a sputtering utterance of curses under the child's breath, which amused him further, causing eyebrows to rise towards flaming-red hair and a sort of contented chuckle to loom from his chest. He then continued with little insistence, having slaved over this question for some time, acquiring it while her mind had been wandering over ridiculous queries deigned suitable for him.

"Now, this has been bothering me for a while, but what's the deal with you and her?"

A thumb along one of the calloused master's hands rose to jerk in the general direction of the subject to his question, which Keiko followed with a dip of her head and sliding, cerulean eyes, capturing the image of Rosa, chatting animatedly on her phone within the hold of the kitchen. The plump woman's appearance alone brought a smile to float across the Carillon's lips, reminding her of safety, warmth and the gentle cadence of benevolence. She drew her attention back to the Champion to answer, but found he wasn't done rambling in the extortion of his query.

"…I mean, you guys don't even look anything remotely alike, so you're obviously not related. Oh, and what's the deal with your name? _Keiko?_ C'mon, you're not even Japanese-"

It was the girl's turn to cut off the shambled tones and questioning mannerisms of the tall male, forcing her vocals to rise over his with a shunted annoyance.

"Well, if you'd shut up for a few seconds, I'd tell you."

All she received in reply was a sullen and pouting visage, the elder trainer clearly aggravated at the fact that he'd been reprimanded for the same reason he'd countered earlier with the girl. Keiko took a deep breath, and attempted to place her face in the worn mask of elated happiness whenever the topic came up, but struggled in finding her masquerading fixture, and instead seemed to draw a mourning look of sadness over her crisp eyes. There was a brief period of silence, and then she allowed her vocals to chime again, retelling a story that had begun years before, rambling on quickly as though to get through it that much sooner, to not relive a painful experience once more. The child intended to not make everything so clear, voiding out whatever would spring her into tears and make her appear weak in front of the Champion. She had already done that effectively in the past few days.

"Rosa took me in when I needed her the most. My own mother passed away a couple of years ago, she'd been sick for a long time…and she'd suffered for a while, so when she finally passed on I had to move in with my uncle in New Bark Town, and that's when I met Professor Elm and began my Pokemon training. Along the way to the Olivine market one day, I came across Rosa and her lively Miltank farm. It seemed so pleasant and warm, and I couldn't stop myself from looking around, and inevitably, I ended up chatting with her. And from there, we've just been close. She's like a surrogate mother to me, I can feel safe when I'm around her, secure, like nothing could ever touch or threaten me. And her children are such little angels…this place is like being in the presence of family again. Whenever I'm lonely, I can come here. So when Team Rocket took me away…"

The rest of the her sentence didn't need to be stated, and sailed into the brink of the night, for it was already obvious that the sinister Team Rocket had destroyed the sanctity of this particular world retaining itself as some sort of safety net for the girl, and she had come here out of habit and dedication. As the moments dragged on, and Lance's eyes kept creeping to the droop in the child's own slits, he felt more and more guilt weigh heavily upon him, seeping into the hold of his entire body, forced to endure the onslaught of his conscience firing jackass callings upon his person. He didn't prompt her as she continued and then faltered in the wake of memories, simply avoiding her gaze as she drew it away from the sky and onto the ground, turning his own to the wandering woman in the kitchen, still chatting away on the phone.

Through the musty and discolored window frame, he could finally visualize why Keiko was so drawn to this worn shamble of a farm. Beneath it all, the disheveled home held the exterior of kindness, not a hollow hold full of arrogant and haughty trainers. Upon that realization, he ground his teeth in aggravation towards himself, knowing full well that it was he that drove her back to the confines of this palisade, parading around as though it still held a safe grasp over her frame. In all truthful tales, it was Eusine's mansion, with all of them contained inside, that was the safest threshold for her. He had driven her away from that, back into one of the few worlds she knew and cherished, regardless of actual magnitudes of protection.

Hastily shoving those thoughts away, to dwell upon in guilt later, he was still intrigued by the plump woman. What would make her take this teenager in? He didn't think the girl was altogether very pleasant, though that was probably due to Lance's observation through rose-colored glasses. Perhaps she had simply noticed the withdrawn, hovering attitude of sadness wavering over the girl's frame, which he only realized now, within the space of prying questions and haunting silence. In the labor of his thoughts, he didn't realize that the woman had noticed his staring, prompting her to wave at him through the window, shoulder propping the phone to her ear, lips moving with a content smile figuratively placed across her mouth. He gave an awkward hand movement back, pulling his eyes away from her presence before he entreated himself to even more foolish moments.

Luckily for Lance, Keiko had seen none of this, her focus brimming on the waving grass, before sniffling once, and turning back to the Champion's guilty face with a suitable mask of indifference placed upon hers, having found it at long last. The child had somehow managed to also retrieve a voice of teasing candor, springing it from some strong fortitude, refreshed and relaxed as though it had always been there.

"And to answer your other question, I was adopted when I was little, dumbass. Besides, Keiko means 'blessing'. I think it suits me well."

She raised her cranium so that her nose was stuck in the air like an arrogant snob, mocking her own answer, placing a dainty smile across her lips at the replying snort of Lance, a twinkle in her eyes returning from wherever it had gone.

"I think 'pain in the ass' would have suited you much better."

* * *

"You think we'd have learned not to send Lance on important missions. He's slow." 

Eusine wandered around his spacious kitchen, fixing himself a drink while Morty nodded in bored agreement at the marbled, island counter-top, a hand poised beneath his chin to keep his head aloft and not dropping off into sleep on the shiny surface. He then offered his own opinion on the matter.

"Maybe Keiko beat him up and he had to go to the hospital. Or he's trying to woo her with his _charms_."

The latter suggestion erupted the room into wild sounds of laughter. The former was deemed believable and earned another fair round of guffaws.

In order to find a distraction from his impatience, the Gym Leader's eyes drifted over to the pile of mail at the end of the kitchen table, neatly folded and pressed together, sorted by occupants of the household. Having already checked his own hours ago, he ran his narrowed slits over the other piles, first coming to Lance's, resting so precariously and asking to be touched.

On the top lay quite a worn envelope, various types of scrawls plastered all over the recipient's address (no doubt due to the fact that no one really ever knew where Lance was half the time), scribbled and slashed out, finally ending in a fancy, legible writing that resembled his cousin's, Clair. The ghost trainer rose from his chair and towered over the letter, curiously peering at the sender's address, neatly typed out to reveal the Pokemon League's formal lettering. Raising an eyebrow at the open, frayed section of the envelope, he turned to glance over at Eusine, who was constantly looking outside for any sign of Lance and the Carillon.

"Hey, Eusine, what's Lance been getting from the Pokemon League? I thought they usually bugged him by phone."

Eusine looked up, the query flowing through his ears and piquing wonder, before striding over and taking his place beside Morty, grabbing the envelope and holding it firmly in his fingers. A small smirk landed across the researcher's lips, and suddenly Morty had second thoughts about even addressing the entire manner. He had once again fed the researcher pieces of a puzzle, and he should have known better than to even allow such things to happen. Last time had resulted in the Carillon incident, and despite the fact that it most likely had to happen with the threads of Fate intertwined across each of them, this situation didn't. He was supposed to be the voice of reason amongst their small gaggle, and already he was floundering in such a role, now naught more than an enabler to the eccentric one.

"Well, let's find out."

"Ehh…we probably better not...invasion of privacy and all that, plus Lance would probably kill us."

Even before Morty had opened his mouth it was too late. The letter had been ripped from its container, unfolded and presented before Eusine's eyes as he grabbed his reading glasses from his shirt pocket. He read aloud, presenting an odd situation at hand.

"We of the Pokemon League…address the Champion Lance with a formal request to train new recruits for the future army…training will begin in a month's time…as holder of Champion title you are required to adhere to this service…wow. What a load of crap."

Eusine's brow was laced with annoyance as he continued to read on, his eyes flicking in random directions to cover over words he had missed in his haggard alarm. As he came to the end, he slammed the piece of paper upon the table, closing his eyes in frustration as Morty began his own declaration of irritation.

"Since when does the Pokemon League need an army? Situations are usually handled by everyone else…they simply dictate orders, how bizarre."

The blond ghost trainer ran his fingers through his hair, placing a fist within the bushy contents while listening to the researcher's seemingly sullen reply.

"Perhaps they heard about Keiko's incident with Team Rocket? It's the only thing I can think of."

"But this means that Lance will be leaving, and we certainly need his assistance. This is rather…unfortunate and ill timed. What are we going to do?"

Morty glanced towards Eusine, no longer attempting to mask any demeanor of impassive countenance, his visage simply shrouded in a dictation of worry and distress, giving clear signs of his questioning apprehension to the future. The other brought a hand to his own face, wrapping fingers around the width of his jaw and glancing out into the great beyond of the dusky sky from the image of the window's glass sheen.

"We'll talk to him first, see what's going on. There's no need to begin fretting about something that may not even occur."

But they both knew they would continue to worry about it in a drowning anxiety until they received the answer they truly wanted. Lance couldn't leave; vanish off into the hold of the League's overbearing presence, not when they needed him the most.

Eusine never bothered to slip the letter back into previous depths, allowing it to flitter in place across the shimmering surface of the table, lofting in an unforgettable trance.

* * *

"Ready to go?" 

A rough, calloused hand was offered to the Carillon by the flame-haired Champion, to which the child replied with a silent grimace, eyes seeming to be almost pained by the sheer thought of going anywhere with the tall, lanky male in front of her. She remained seated on the edge of the wooden porch, blue slits glancing over to the frame of the woods beyond, as though somehow hoping they would help her in answering his query, tell him to leave her be and continue on as though naught had happened. The painful fact was that Keiko couldn't help but feel apprehensive at every turn of this evening, still unsure and fighting the odd notions that spewed from the man's mouth. Could she really be this Carillon creature dictated in legend? The entire thing had her mind reeling, made her feel as though she was floating on some indescribable cloud, incapable of finding her way down to the earth, cast aloft into the shadow of the day to hover without the delight and warmth of knowledge. She was trapped in this weird utterance of truth, wondering how to distinguish it from avid lies and horrors of the day before. The previous calm had been shattered, broken by that mere question uttered by the formidable being, the tension thickening by the brimming silence. How was she going to accept her path, when she wasn't sure whom to trust? There were so many faces painted over the crest of the day and the preceding, blurring together into a mass of no discerning qualities, except doubt and suspicion.

When the youth didn't take his hovering hand, Lance looked upon her features with a look of hushed annoyance, slipping the limb back into the hold of his obsidian cloak. His visage turned away from her rather quickly, as though disgusted by the fickle child, staring off into the distance with his brow furrowed. His voice soon penetrated through the thickening silence, wafting along the breeze in a calm manner that seemed so unlike the brash Champion.

"I know it's hard to accept. I can't say that I've ever been in your place, told that I'm some special kid that has to help save the world…but I think you have to realize that that's what you truly are. It'll take time, as most things do…but you could try, ya'know? Eusine, Morty and I, we're all here to help and protect you. We don't intend to let anything bad happen to you again. Trust and understanding can come in time, and all I ask is that you try, can't you at least do that?"

His stare soon came back to her own, interlocking with the cerulean eyes of a flustered child, before she bowed her head in evident shame, unworthy to look upon him in apparent disgrace. Keiko's next movements were dictated by her cranium, bobbing slowly in agreement, a tiny, shambled whisper gliding across the air.

"I...I can try."

"Good. Time to stop wallowing in pity and get a move on."

Suddenly, Keiko's sight was altered, switched to another sector of the wooden porch as the back of her sweater was stretched, allowing a fisted amount of fabric to come into the Champion's hand as he quite literally lifted her seemingly weightless body off of the timber structure. She began flinging her limbs in protest as he raised her higher, screaming at the top of her lungs, and possibly alarming neighboring folk two towns over.

"HEY! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT."

A snort flooded from Lance in response, keeping his face contorted in an expression of mirth, before actually conversing with the torrent of child dangling from his hand.

"So noisy. Just put your feet down, doofus."

With a lingering bout of shame and stupidity touching her crimson cheeks, Keiko lowered her previously floundering feet, placing them on the deck and cringing as she looked up at Lance, a sheepish smile embracing her features. The Champion simply rolled his eyes, coaxing his hand towards the set of Pokeballs lingering along his belt. The girl, her slits fixating on the action, drew a questioning look upon her visage, speaking aloud her query.

"Erm…how are we getting back?"

Instead of immediately answering the teen's question, the flame-haired male reached for his favorite crimson and ivory sphere, holding the cool, smooth contraption in the palm of his hand, before extending it out upon the deck, allowing the austere contents to spill across the wilderness.

Before the two appeared a large, golden creature, gilded from the tip of its cranium, to the swinging pendulum of its massive tail. Claws extracted from outer limbs, but never touched any portion of the wooden porch, the beast's flapping wings allowing it to hover gracefully above the surface, as though poised and ready for anything. Keiko, having never seen a Dragon before in her life, especially a rare one like Dragonite, could not help but be drawn to the beauty and magnificence of the wafting creature, of the raw power and serenity clouding over each and every feature. Lance shifted his attention to the child's façade, to simply view her reaction. Of course, he didn't expect the excited cry to flood across her vocals and the squeal to puncture his eardrums.

"Oh, he's so cute!"

The male blanched, grimacing at the words, feeling betrayed by the child. She was supposed to cower beneath the might of his powerful dragon, not be fascinated by the appealing, cute nature of its face! His brows furrowed in frustration, as they had done many times that day, fingers going across the brink of his forehead, trying to suffice any patience he had left.

"He's not cute, he's a terrifying beast…Oi, Fang, stop that!"

The dragon's rosy tongue had already lapped up Keiko's visage, causing her to spring into a giggling fit, hands coursing over the gilded visage of his beloved Pokemon as it's eyes drooped in joy and amusement. Lance could have sworn he heard a purr.

"All right, time to go."

He rushed forward, grabbing the child, before she could kick and scream again, by the waist and hoisting her upon the waiting dragon's back. She appeared stunned for a moment, fixating her gaze upon the broad spine of the creature, the flapping wings, the rough golden scales that allowed her to cling to the surface of its formation. One of her tiny, frail hands moved to pat the beast's pelt, stroking it with an idle finger as in some form of gratitude. Only when a small smile lingered across her features did she finally respond, this time in protest.

"But Lance, I need to talk to Rosa-"

"She'll figure it out."

Before Keiko could comment on Lance's rudeness, the Champion had already leapt to his place on the Dragonite, riding behind the teenager, arms strung loosely around his sides and proceeding to grab a hold of the makeshift reins lingering close to the creature's nape. Keiko suddenly felt surrounded by the presence of the brash man, tucked quietly in some safe embrace (probably because he thought she'd fall off, and then that'd be yet another mess he'd have to clean up). She was exposed to the harsh wind at her front, and behind sat the demon that invoked all of her wrath. After swallowing a ready retort and her mind had rid her body of embarrassment, Keiko allowed a sigh to filter into the air, making her feel lighter, taller, stronger, even if she was simply settled on the back of a dragon, ready to take flight towards her destiny.

Lance maneuvered his feet to give a gentle nudge along Fang's sides, giving him the signal to rise into the skies. The Pokemon had been ready, wings flapping, providing Keiko with a warm blast of wind and a giggle to form, before the ensuing glide into the horizon. However, before they got too far into the midnight drapery, the two trainers heard a strange cry from below. The child's eyes floated to the deck, witnessing her caretaker's vivid expression of confusion and anger flooding across her face.

"Good gracious you hoodlum! Allow her off that monster this instant!"

The dragon trainer was clearly annoyed at the scream, intending to brandish some comment that would, without any doubt, cause the scene to get worse. Keiko, having already been exposed to such lingering signs, did her best to placate the situation, as they continued to climb along the twinkling and fluttering air. An arm was sent out into the wind, waving in stroking formation towards her surrogate parent, trying her best to ensure she wouldn't be in harms way…not again.

"Don't worry Rosa! I'm going somewhere safe. I'll promise to visit!"

* * *

Keiko could only be dazzled by the sights: soaring above rocky canyons dripping in shimmering moonlight, rushing torrents of babbling water, or even basking in the glow of the twinkling stars, frequently attempting to reach her hand out to touch upon the distant fragments before Lance hastily forced her limbs back within the hold of the dragon's spine. It was the flight that transfixed her, the majestic beauty and lingering glory of the creature's hovering wings, flapping ever so slightly whenever necessary, the power manifested beneath her limbs, coiled energy ready to grapple with whatever they faced, whether it be the pleasant glide across the moonlit skies, or a terrifying battle with formidable demons. It reminded her, ever so quickly, of the encounter with Suicune, her own promised mythical beast, spoken of in legend, dripping in cosmic influences, bringing her back to the image garnered. She found herself almost craving his presence once more; to simply fixate her cerulean eyes on his matching pelt, allow her fingertips to glide across the surface of his smooth exterior, to truly know that they were connected, that the meeting wasn't a fluke. 

Bringing her attention back to the present, focusing her azul slits once more upon the gilded creature, she realized that Lance had been silent the entire time, hovering behind her with the grace of someone who had ridden dragons long before, who would continue without a hitch until the day he succumbed to death. Smiling gingerly, Keiko decided to dip into the present tranquility and mar it, for only a few, slender moments, longing to entreat herself to an answer she had quested for previously, yet never received.

"Hey, you never answered my other question."

Lance sprung out of his daze, causing his eyes to roam the back of the child's blonde cranium, avoiding the stray tassels flying out of her poorly constructed ponytail. He appeared confused for a moment, trying to dig up her recent queries, but finding naught important in his recollection manifesting to the forefront of his mind, so he proceeded with little caution.

"The one that asked me if I had any cats? Yeah, because it was stupid."

Keiko crinkled her noise absentmindedly, tossing her cranium slightly to the side so that her warm eyes could focus on his hardened ones, noticing the rolling of his own, even as she went on without a hitch.

"No, not that one. When I asked you why you think I can defeat Team Rocket, and actually achieve this whole Carillon thing."

"Good grief kid, does your self-esteem and ego need to be stroked every two seconds?"

At his clever retort the child simply continued in her gleam, offering a slight giggle, to which Lance narrowed his eyes in annoyance. It was as though he could no longer faze her, and he found this odd, in the back of his mind, remaining unspoken and forced away in the process of her answer. But still, had she just gotten over his cruel and facetious demeanor? Or did she just not want to spar at this time?

"About the same as yours, I suppose."

The Champion knew he was defeated in the continued efforts to avoid the question, so his mind began to warp back into whatever it had justified when she had labored over the query long before, uttering a long, lingering sigh from his chest. His focus was no longer on her, eyes drifting listlessly over the hovering land, making sure they were coasting in the right direction, attempting to calculate the time it would take to return to Eusine's mansion before he lost his mind with the girl's nagging question.

"Har har. Well, I think you can look to Suicune for that answer. He's approached you twice now. Isn't it obvious you're more than just a beginning trainer? He has faith and trust in you, and so, Morty, Eusine and I have the same. That dog sees the strength and capability within your soul, you just need to believe in yourself, and don't listen to doubting minds. Pokemon are rarely wrong, they possess much more insight then we humans ever will. They know and understand what we cannot. Trust Suicune. You wouldn't have been selected if he didn't think you were capable."

"Wow. That's utterly profound for you. But…do you think I can do it?"

There was no hesitation in Lance's reply, reaching across the blanket of clouds with only the utterance of truth, no disregard or sarcastic label placed upon the spoken words.

"Of course."


	10. Forgiving Hymn

Oh look, I'm alive! I apologize profusely for taking months to write this chapter. School tends to take up a lot of time, so, since I had a minor break in between homework assignments, I rushed to get this chapter up for my dedicated readers (alas, don't be surprised if it happens to be filled with errors).

* * *

_If puzzles and challenges never awaited around every corner,_

_No one would become a legend._

* * *

The morning proved to come far too quickly; though Keiko's slumber had been peaceful and content, it could not erase the restless edge pulling along her senses. Perhaps she had not yet realized that all of the events of yesterday had actually happened; so trapped in the fear Team Rocket still held her soul in their grasp. Luckily for her, these assumptions made in exhaustive and anxious slumber were not true.

Under piles of silken and satin covers, curled rather inelegantly and smothering herself in the embrace of warmth and the apparent safety net of Eusine's mansion, she began to briefly awaken, eyelids fluttering open for a few seconds at a time.

The shock of where she was did not have the same effect, nor last as long, as the first dawn she had found herself in the large room; remembering how she had arrived late the previous evening much to everyone's delight. She had been surprised by Morty and Eusine's reactions to her return, believing they would be as difficult as Lance, but found herself enveloped in some massive group hug as soon as she walked through the door (Lance had omitted himself from the proceedings, of course). Perhaps they had thought she would never be seen again, not trusting the dragon master's attempts at apologizing or coercing, but nonetheless, they delivered her an adequate homecoming.

What was even stranger to the teen was the notion of this abode being heralded as her new 'home', for she had been existing as many nomadic Pokemon trainers before her (when not under the threat of abduction), wandering when and where necessary. Yet here, in this large mansion, she was to put her trust and salvation in three other souls, relying on them for her safety, protection and guidance. She had been on her own for so long, with the exception of Rosa's humble lands, that the very notion of reliance on others was overwhelming, especially those she truly didn't know very well. She knew they meant well (at least that of Morty and Eusine), and she had already promised Lance to give them a chance at trust, so perhaps very slowly, Keiko could find herself intertwined with their good graces.

As Keiko mused and hovered in her half-conscious mind, a knock was abruptly heard at her door, stirring her into a fully awakened state, groggily widening her eyes to stare at her blanket-surrounded world. It took a few more moments to register that someone was outside, waiting for some sort of reply from the girl, that she was not in fact slumbering or half-dead any longer. The girl finally managed to somehow form a response from beneath the layers of blankets pulled over her petite frame.

"Er…yes?"

The woman at the entrance, a dainty figurine dressed in maid garb, entered the hold of Keiko's dominion with a graceful smile and cheery disposition. Curling her arms neatly and elegantly in front of her and waiting the moment Keiko actually bothered to pop out from the smothering trap of blankets, she began her practiced speech.

"Madame, Master Eusine would like you to join them in the dining room for breakfast. He's rather excited and hopes you will arrive soon, as he says there is much to discuss."

The only thing audible from Keiko's cover was a long groan, as though to even get up would be a grand tribulation. This was not the expected reason however, which soon became apparent to the maid.

"Is Lance going to be there?"

A state of confusion arrived to the face of the poor woman, strangling all performed elegancies from her sights. How odd, the child did not seem to like Master Lance. She had always thought of the dragon tamer as very handsome, polite, and well mannered, and had secretly started the small Lance Fan Club faction within the mansion. The idea of asking the Carillon to join the ranks soon flew out the window.

"Um…yes Madame."

There was some strangled, muffled curse followed shortly there-after, to which the maid blanched, finding herself shocked once again. A few moments later the face of the child appeared, having found her way through the maze of covers, a bit of a smile forming along her cheeks (probably realizing she had been a bit rude to the poor woman before her).

The servant eyed the fading injuries on the girl with a curious speculation, though remained careful not to probe any further. There was no doubt in her mind that the youth aimed to disregard such memories as soon as the healing process finished and procured a fantastic glow back upon her skin. She took her slits away from the sanctity of the Carillon's visage as soon as the child's voice floated along the hold of the room once more, dropping her head in practiced ease and allowing eyes to grasp the fine carpet along the wooden floor.

"I suppose I'll have to make some kind of appearance then, otherwise I'll get my head chewed off."

Blinking and glancing around for some short seconds made Keiko realize that she was still dressed in her pajamas, and not wishing for a repeat of her past performances in front of the men, she looked questioningly at the other maiden.

"Eh, might I ask where I could get a change of clothes? I can't remember where I put my bag-"

The maid was all too glad to be helpful once more at the child's musings, lifting her head and expanding her familiar smile along her lips, one arm raised to indicate her direction.

"That has all been taken care of, Madame. You'll find some suitable wardrobe in the closet."

They had already thought of everything, from rescue attempts to clothing. Feeling like some rude, little brat again, the child leapt from her bed, arranging herself in front of the large closet and finding clothes similar to the things she had been wearing days preceding, before her world had changed. Fingering the cloth of a nearby pastel skirt, she allowed her smile to widen and turned back to the maid, who had been waiting for some sort of mustered reply in the gentle cadence of silence.

Keiko supposed if they could accommodate for her, she could do the same for them.

"Tell them I'll be right down. Oh, and none of that Madame stuff anymore. I'm just Keiko, no need for titles."

* * *

Though Keiko left her chambers shortly after getting dressed, time seemed to be rather daunting as she shifted from various rooms and hallways, incredibly distressed that she could not find the blasted dining room within the large house. It took quite a few maids and butlers, hustling and bustling with their other chores, to turn her in the right direction with soft and understanding smiles.

Sick of her aimless wandering, Keiko finally stumbled upon the finely furnished dining hall, but instead of being greeted with the expected wide grins of Morty and Eusine and the cold stare by Lance, her ears rang with hostile yells and eyes sank at the threatening glances.

The three men were not aware of her presence as the dragon master stood from his chair, shoving it backwards in a fit of uncontrolled anger. Eusine and Morty remained fixated in their own seats, eyes penetrating and glued to the figure of the Champion as he drew closer to them with some seething edge, cruel words blindly etched from his mouth.

"I told you not to worry about it. Mind your own business and stop going through my mail. I'll take care of it."

As he slammed his hands down upon the shining surface of the table, Keiko decided to make her entrance known, for fear she was currently standing in the midst of something she was not meant to overhear, even as they quarreled over the apparent snooping of Lance's letters. Abruptly clearing her throat in the throng of the doorway, she glanced meekly at the trio, hoping the anger amongst them had subsided in that brief instant.

At once the tense faces of the researcher and ghost trainer morphed into some semblance of extended gratitude and hospitality. Eusine's grin couldn't have been larger as he lunged out of his seat (clearly happy to not be the object of Lance's ire any longer) and launched himself in front of Keiko, taking her hands in earnest and leaning towards her with unbridled enthusiasm. At this reaction Keiko could only attempt and flee, but all hopes were dashed at Eusine's firm grasp. She painted some pathetic smile on her face, apologetic and uncomfortable.

"Ah, sorry I'm late. I got lost on the way a couple times…I didn't realize you had so many bathrooms-"

"Don't worry about it all, my dear Keiko! Morty and I were simply having a lovely discussion with Lance."

Keiko could only briefly wonder what her appearances with Lance could be coined as, if that apparent eruption of anger had been termed as "lovely discussion".

The researcher quickly dragged the youth to a large chair situated near their small gathering, unfortunately across from the dragon tamer, who to his credit, had actually sat down after the release of his pent-up anger. Instead of directing his former rage upon her, as Keiko thought would be coming, he settled to drumming his fingers on the table, looking on in bored disinterest.

Morty, the quiet charmer, decided to no longer aid the silence and gave a worthy beam of light to the child in simple conversation, while Eusine was distracted in telling a nearby maid to finally bring in the prepared breakfast.

"I trust you're faring well, Keiko? We didn't want you to be uncomfortable, so I hope everything was arranged accordingly-"

The girl decided to effectively cut him off, waving her hands in a gesture to soothe his queries, hoping he would understand that she was more than satisfied with the arrangements. She didn't want them thinking that they were mistreating her, especially when they had never done so in the first place…plus she felt Lance's inquiring eyes probing her for some sort of chance at goading her into another childish fight.

"Everything is fantastic. You don't need to worry at all. Thank you very much for what you've all done."

"Oh, so you learned some manners now?"

It had clearly been too much for the Champion to resist, his teasing tones urging her to glance at him with some discontent, almost hoping she could provide the fuel for more fire and instigate a quarreling match.

Keiko, for all of her wiles, decided to not bother with the man in front of her; merely extending her eyes to glance upon him with her own look of boredom.

"I did…but you know its such a shame that you still have not mastered yours."

It was upon a sudden realization that Keiko's musings now embarked, for after her retort Lance quietly smirked and turned away from her, as though they had all understood that this was a level of normalcy. From Eusine's courteous and exaggerated greeting, to Morty's polite and cordial regards, and finally ending upon Lance's jousting sneers and quips, there was a strange atmosphere of acceptance and practiced formula to the entire charade. An air of familiarity existed, surrounding the large dining hall, mastered and content for all to view and bask within. Past sequences had been forgotten and laid behind them, because those seemingly no longer mattered. Keiko was being presented with a clean slate, a new chance to foster friendship and comradely ties to these individuals, and all she could do was stare upon this scene and present a grand smile for all of them to see.

After all she had done to these men, with her bratty ways and inconceivable temper, they were making her feel welcome.

For that, she would be eternally grateful.

* * *

"Now that we're all stuffed, let's discuss today's agenda!"

Eusine's excited voice boomed over the previously silent room, the only sounds audible preceding this moment was satisfied chewing of the exquisite breakfast laid out before the group. Keiko had been astounded by the amounts of food, usually associating the morning meal with a burnt piece of toast or, if she was lucky, a rather nice bagel, but yet again, Eusine had gone above and beyond her expectations.

Her plate now empty and stomach satiated with a proper meal, the girl turned her attention to the researcher, curious of what today's events would entail. At some point she had been wondering where they were going to go from here, for certainly the tale had just begun, the mystery unfolding and laden along her brain, confusing and tormenting the child until she had to force the conundrum away and focus on something completely different. Luckily for her, the master of the hour was going to explain in rapt detail.

"We will be adjourning to Goldenrod City, where the Director works in the Radio Tower. He has been keeping hold of the Clear Bell for us, and now that Keiko is finally safe in our possession, we can see if she is ready for the sacred item."

While Lance and Morty nodded in full understanding, Keiko blinked once or twice, not fully grasping the situation at hand.

"Clear Bell?"

Eusine, apparently used to her ignorance, drew a radiant smile along his lips and began the explanation with aplomb.

"The Clear Bell is what you will come to use to summon Suicune in order to capture him. It requires a certain amount of power to call the legendary beast, but I don't see the harm in realizing if you have reached such potential or not."

Feeling the sensation of overwhelming proportions stifling her once again, Keiko quickly tried to decipher the information within her head, but ended up coming with more queries than answers. The majestic Suicune had already arrived before her on his own, wandering around the hold of Rosa's farm, which the girl was sure Eusine knew about from Lance's dictation of events.

"But…I've already seen him once before, and I didn't need any sort of bell for him to come."

"Ah, but that was of his own accord, and you can't say that you could try again and he'd be right at your side. Think of it as a test. He wanted to see if you were truly the one he had been waiting for."

While Eusine had the answer to every one of her questions, Keiko still felt lost and exposed, wandering around in a tomb of mythical runes where each puzzle solved only led her to more and more rooms of confusion. Bringing a hand to rub her temple for a few moments, the three men looked on with sympathetic gazes, or in Lance's case, a smirk. It was Morty who raised his hand, patted her shoulder in a soothing gesture and commanded a warm voice to the stressful fray.

"It seems like a lot to digest right now, but don't worry, you'll come to understand in time. I don't think becoming a legend was ever easy for anyone."

* * *

The journey to Goldenrod had Keiko restless and pulsing with anticipation, kneading her fingers together in her lap while sitting quietly in Eusine's vehicle, struggling to listen to the men talk amongst themselves. Staring out the window did nothing for her either, watching the scenery pass by only caused her thoughts to fade off into what the future held, annoyed by the fact that she could predict nothing.

They had marched to the vehicle soon after breakfast, though not before Lance had recommended that Keiko put on some amount of makeup so it didn't appear as though they had been beating her. Though bitter at his words, when glimpsing into the mirror she had realized just how horrible her face truly did look, marked by tarnished yellow and green hued bruises, and opted to apply some cover-up. No one knew of her recent tortures besides the men, occupants of Eusine's household, and those who had actually tried to corrupt her, and her rescuers didn't believe it necessary to inform every single person they came in contact with of her struggles and recent turmoil. The Director was simply told that they had convinced the beloved Carillon to follow them, and were proceeding in the direction of acquiring the Clear Bell.

Upon arrival, Keiko only grew more excited and wary, the two emotions bubbling along her stomach and causing some jittering motions. Even when Morty had handed her a pair of sunglasses, some amount of a disguise in case Rockets were nearby, her fingers had twitched and barely grabbed hold of the eyewear. At this, the ghost trainer had given her his kindly smile and proceeded to glide with an air of quiet elegance beside Eusine, leaving Keiko to trail behind them with Lance nearby, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

Even with her nerves, the walk along Goldenrod's streets was remarkable and enchanting. She had always found the hustle and bustle of the city to be enthralling, people shifting and moving every which way to run their daily errands, feasting their eyes on market wares or roaming uneasily to the gambling portion of the block. Children would play with an unprecedented ease, shout gallantly of their next pursuits in the Bug Catching Contest, their mothers soon scolding at them to keep up or smiling with a knowing gaze. Whitney's Gym would beckon and call to any challenging trainers, the massive shopping center would tower over its citizens with such a promising gleam, and the townspeople would call and hark to one another, asking how their neighbor's day had been going thus far. As they passed along a familiar alley that led to the Bike Shop, Keiko at once felt the desire to explore its depths and finally manage to land that bicycle of her dreams, but with a firm tug on her shirt by Lance, she shifted back to the side under his watchful eye and smirk.

As they strolled the pebbled roads of the city, Keiko could feel eyes sliding over the group, for there was no doubt that each one of the men were firmly recognized and admired. Eusine, with his bubbling personality and eccentric tales had fostered some kinship among many, far too friendly for his own good. Morty, the silent but steady ghost trainer was a Gym Leader, and was granted respectable nods by many folks alike. Last of course was Lance, who was not only gawked at, but several females would advance from large crowds and request his autograph, shoving nasty, jealous glares in Keiko's direction as she roamed beside him. All of them seemed used to this ambience of life, but the young Carillon could only wonder if this made them easier to spot, easier to trace and ambush with lines of Rocket fiends possibly loitering amongst the crowds. It was sad to even believe that she had been unnerved by the pressures of days before (she thought she was a bit stronger than that), but at her apparent alarm written so clearly on her face, Lance lifted a hand to pat her firmly on the head, making sure to knock on the cranium a few times with his knuckles for good measure.

"We're going to attract attention wherever we go, and unfortunately, we can't just lay low in secrecy all the time. But honestly, don't look so damn afraid, living in fear isn't going to do you any good. You think we're not going to protect you?"

His questioning glance left Keiko to feel ashamed as they finished the last portion of their walk at the glowing entrance of Goldenrod's Radio Tower. She swallowed, gulping loudly to which Lance could only roll his eyes as they proceeded into the large building.

Keiko had only been in the imposing structure once before, during a campaign to get another station for her radio. Looking back on it now made her smile for a brief interval in time, remembering when her silly trainer's life had been simple and easy. Glancing around the fortress and peering at the smiling receptionist's face, she knew that those moments had been fleeting, now only listless and old.

As Eusine proclaimed the reason for their visit and the woman picked up her phone to make the call to the Director, the young trainer could only wonder what would happen from here. Was she to be accepted by the Clear Bell, and then what could befall them? What if she didn't possess the strength for a necessary reaction-what if this was all one huge mistake? The anxiety and misery in her soul built up the tension surrounding the room, and Lance kept prodding her as they waited, ensuring she didn't faint from her thoughts' hysterics.

* * *

The phone, never an idle fixture within the large room, rang until a large hand intercepted it from the handle, holding it neatly to his ear while eyes remained locked on various portions of scattered paper littering his desk.

"Mr. Director, you have visitors here to see you."

A gentle smile broke onto the elder gentleman's face as he heard the excitable shrieking of Eusine in the background, getting up from his chair and bearing a hearty laugh into the talking device.

"Tell them I'll be right down. I wouldn't want to keep Eusine waiting."

Placing the phone back upon its former perch, the Director, a tall charismatic figure running the entirety of the expansive Goldenrod Radio Tower, marched towards his office door, pulling it open with a practiced ease. Before turning to lock it however, he noticed a maid further down the corridor, and realizing she would certainly need to clean the rather dusty office space, left the door cracked.

Tipping his hat to the woman as he passed by, he thought nothing of the stranger. As soon as he rounded the corner and proceeded down the hollow chamber of stairs, an evil, demonic smile warped along her frame, and the quickened march to his office began. The threat of her success beat wildly beneath the maid garb and hidden Rocket emblem.

* * *

Upon first sighting the Director, Keiko instantly took a liking to him. He was striking in his demeanor, and while this called for a calculated dose of respect, there was also an amiable fortitude to his presence. A set of kind eyes had befitted his gaze, charming and seemingly casting a look of understanding along each soul he met. His suits were neat and cut expertly, tailored to his style and not flamboyant like Eusine, Keiko knew she wouldn't find a cape near this man's back. As he maneuvered down the hallway all of the workers seemed to turn their heads and bid him some form of a good day, and his manifested grin was laden to all.

If possible, it grew wider at the sight of Eusine's mangled little group, from the three men to the tiny, lithe figurine of the girl whose eyes had rounded almost out of their sockets. The gentle smile was bestowed to every one of them, and a simple wink towards Keiko left her slightly baffled, but comforted all the more.

After greetings were bestowed, the Director led them up a flight of stairs to his office, Morty and Lance ensuring Keiko didn't trail behind in her anxious curiosity as she stared at each and every one of the cubicles they waltzed by.

When they entered the confines of the respectable man's quarters, the girl was once again left astounded and impressed. The office was fairly large but filled to the brim with information; books upon books were shelved neatly in the chosen stacks, while a desk gleamed brightly with paperwork littered across it. Various portraits and fine paintings were hung along the walls, one of which intrigued the dame as she maneuvered closer to it for a better look.

Embellished upon the canvas was a soft silhouette of a legendary beast, the one she had met previously, reminding her so vastly of its presence it was as though Suicune was in the room beside her. The cerulean hue was nearly perfect, a few details were misshapen or off, as though the creator had only been given a swift glimpse and could only struggle to retain memories from that sole image. Nonetheless, it conveyed that sense of reality to the girl, so much so that she found her fingers raised elegantly to meet where the brushstrokes had been made, before a voice called her to attention and surprised her from tracing the artwork.

"I see our Lady Keiko has found something that interests her."

The rich vocals were uncoiled and released from the Director, at which the child could only blush in embarrassment as she turned to glimpse upon the rest of the group. As her cheeks became shaded in a vibrant crimson hue, the man merely winked at her again, the intent of teasing her having been committed in its regard and reduced to folly thereafter. She had done no harm in wishing to touch the grand object, and his kind ambience reflected that upon her docile figure.

"Perhaps I shall retrieve what you are here for then, hm?"

Finding herself incapable of speaking for the moment, nerves freezing her to the bone, Keiko simply nodded, progressing forward so that she stood next to the regal Eusine, with Morty and Lance shifting idly in the corners, obtaining spectators' seats. The Director moved at her reply, lowering his frame down towards a small safe hidden in a corridor along his desk, fingering the combination while the child and others looked on with increasing fascination. In a few moments, the latch to the safe was opened, and the object they had come to view and question appeared before their eyes.

Enclosed in a square case was the Clear Bell, a beauty of daunting proportions. Formed in the shape of its namesake, it glistened with radiant beams that perhaps only the sun could rival, shining with a peculiar curiosity and mischievous quality, as though it beckoned forth admirers in hopes of landing a good trick upon their hides. The entire sanctum of its presence was made in crystal, looking so fragile and breakable inside it's covering. Not a single fingertip seemed to rest upon it; its sheen was never impacted by the touch of some unworthy being. Mesmerized, the sacred Carillon stepped forward, blinking steadily and holding her breath, only lifting her gaze from the bell to give a questioning look to Eusine and the Director.

"What…what do I do?"

In quiet reply, the Director lifted the cover off of the object, leaving the divine piece exposed. The urge to touch it roamed along her extended fingers, at which the researcher and his counterpart nodded her onwards. The tension in the room mounted and became quite apparent, the child's breath taken in harshly and not exuded back into the air. With careful preciseness, she wafted her fingers closer to the framework of the sacred bell, until finally, they rested on the edge.

An unexpected shock was sent through her appendages, jolting her back into reality and causing her to gasp as a slight painful tingling erupted along the core of her skin. She immediately took her fingers back, placing one along her lips and into her mouth as though to soothe the strange ache. Her brow was laced with concern, heart beating wildly in her chest. Perhaps this had all been a mistake, she wasn't the fabled Carillon, she wouldn't be the chosen to capture the sacred Suicune, and this had all been a big misunderstanding-

"Well, you're just not strong enough yet."

At the Director's words the child's panic ceased for a moment or two, her eyes flickering from Eusine to the other men, back and forth, longing to hear some sort of explanation instead of the ones currently derived in her mind.

She received a heavy sigh from the researcher, who had seemingly collected and resigned himself to this result from the very beginning.

"Shame, I was afraid of that. My apologies Keiko, it's not time yet."

"You mean…it hasn't rejected me?"

Her puzzlement seemed to cause more smiles than disgruntlement over her obvious ignorance, and she could only wonder how they had managed to gather all of this information about some blasted object no one had used before. Morty was the one to speak this time, as the Director and Eusine carefully laid the case back over the spectacle and into its safe confines to await another trial.

"No, it hasn't rejected you at all. The Clear Bell has recognized that you are the Carillon it has been seeking, but you currently don't have enough power to wield it. Hence the slight shock."

He leaned closer to the girl, chuckling against the tensed atmosphere so that it could loosen and provide her a more comfortable vibe.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault. Besides, you should have seen the reaction Eusine received when he thought **he** was the Carillon. That bell sent him clear across the room."

While Keiko and Morty were absorbed in giggling over Eusine's turmoil (his face had now become beet red in embarrassment), Lance, who had been silent the entire time, stepped forward for his own query to be recognized.

"How is she supposed to gain power in order to use the Clear Bell, Mr. Director?"

"I might have just the thing. Hold on one moment, let me find it."

At once the man turned to his stack of books, roaming over them with accuracy, eyes lifting over the various titles. As he scoured the tomes, however, his face seemed to draw upon a look of puzzlement, brows strained and furrowed against his kind eyes. He went back over the titles again and again, apparently befuddled and confused as to where one of them had gone.

"Odd. I had it out this morning…"

The guests could only step back as the questioned man swept across the room, glancing over and under documents, through drawers and more shelves. Eventually frustrated at being incapable of finding the sought object, a heavy sigh was released from his frame and a disappointed fixture landed along his face.

"My apologies, I was certain I had laid it out for you in case this situation arose. There was quite a nice book I had read upon and bought about the legendary creatures, especially Suicune and the mystery of his beloved Carillon. When I do find it, I shall certainly let you know."

* * *

"So we left the Clear Bell with a man who can't remember where he placed his book last?"

Lance's sarcastic tones filtered along the air as all four proceeded to vacate the building, seemingly more disappointed and anxious than when they had arrived. Strides were aloof and listless, faces were laden with either questioning glances or masked discontent.

"Nonsense _Lancelot_, the Director has an excellent memory. Perhaps something is amiss."

Eusine's assurances were taken and sprinkled about the team as they wandered through the confines of Goldenrod, wondering and speculating if there was more to the mysterious disappearance of the book.

"Where do we go from here?"

The quiet question from the Carillon herself stunned the other portions of the team into silence, no one having the appropriate answer.

* * *

As they dwindled at a remarkably slow pace through the scenery of Goldenrod, the sparkling and radiant structure of the large shopping mart dazzled the sights of Keiko, causing her to form a pleasant idea within her mind. A smile seemed to broaden across her visage, as though past disappointments were left to haunt her for another time and place, turning to dazzle the three men into roused spirits again.

"Can I go shopping?"

The Champion made a derisive snort, while Eusine and Morty were left to raise their brows in a questioning mannerism towards the dainty girl gliding around in front of them. Had she gotten over the past event so quickly? When silence enveloped the sector, she tried again.

"Pretty please?"

"I wasn't aware you needed something I didn't provide back home. Are the supplies not adequate for you?"

Not realizing she had potentially offended the researcher, Keiko raised her hands in mock surrender and assurance.

"Oh no, not at all. I was hoping to get some special things, that's all."

She didn't bother offering them any hints as to what these 'special things' could be, and thinking they could be some female objects that none of them wanted to ponder over, Eusine managed to give a firm nod to her request.

"Sure. But take Lance with you."

Shouts of protest and teasing laughter soon followed, until finally the young girl had managed to drag the dragon master to the sliding entrance doors as Eusine and Morty waved them off, giggling all the while and mentioning how they had to go visit Whitney. Steeling himself for an endeavor of struggling proportions, Lance formed a seething gaze and gritted his teeth.

"Don't you dare expect me to pay for anything."

The Carillon could only laugh in reply.

"I wouldn't dream of it, _Lancelot._"

* * *

Once inside, the girl released the poor Champion and scurried in various directions, peering at floor signs and pondering over whether to go to some certain portion of the store or not. Lance was already groaning and whining nearby, shuffling his feet in every attempt to make the entire situation unbearable for both parties.

Luckily for Keiko, there was a blessing in disguise formulated against several walls. Teenage girls had lifted their heads at the sound of Lance's voice shifting along the wide corridors of the store, stopping to stare and gawk as many had done so on the streets. While the Carillon searched along vendors and Lance continued to moan about his current location, she felt eyes glued to them. Lifting her gaze every so often, she noticed the groups of females hoarding in various ranges, sliding ever closer to the Champion. Narrowing her own slits and smirking, the trainer quietly slipped away from Lance's presence as he talked to himself about how boring the entire shopping extravaganza was.

With their threat gone, Keiko's closeness with the handsome dragon tamer, the girls pounced. There was a sudden wild glee bursting along the shopping center as females roamed to his side before he even had a chance to escape, offering him pads of paper and pens, questions about his love life and requests to marry him. Struggling in the midst of the rabid fan girls, Lance watched out of the corner of his eye as his ward took off down some other hall.

"Hey!"

His shout was heard, and the child only replied with a wink and teasing wave of her hand before disappearing around the corner.

With freedom finally at her disposal, Keiko roamed the vast corridors of the shopping center with her true intentions; finding gifts of apology for the three men. She felt it was only right to give them something in return for their hospitality and constant concern. Her attitude had not been appropriate for anything recently and she only felt guilt and shame every time they comforted her. No matter what she did they always seemed to forgive her, and in the end, Keiko believed she had to justify her silly behavior. What better than with well thought out gifts? Plus, it would be easier without Lance beside her, constantly nagging about something.

It took her some decent amount of time and quick movements, she could have sworn she saw the obsidian cape of the dragon master several times, before she had finally settled on the appropriate presents for her faithful comrades. For the impeccable researcher, the girl had acquired a book on the Ruins of Alph, hoping he didn't already have it stored in his library. Morty was going to receive a mini Silph Scope, while Lance was getting a rather fashionable new cape, since his old one had been singed and reduced to frayed portions in his efforts to rescue her.

Satisfied with her selection of purchases, the child marched up to the cash register, unaware of the threatening figure stomping behind her. Glancing at the worker behind the counter and noticing the fellow female's wary eyes looking behind her form raised the child's curiosity, but she shrugged and dragged her wallet out of her pocket, pulling out the necessary amount of money. Turning around with wares in hand, she immediately bumped into the large, imposing figure blocking her path, recognizing it in an instant.

"Having a good time?"

Her large smile and teasing tones reached the red-haired, rather irritated male, who could only look down on her with furrowed brows, trying to showcase how angry he was through clenched teeth.

"I am going to kill you."

"I'm pretty sure that would defeat the entire purpose of rescuing me, no?"

Keiko waltzed around his large and lean form, swinging her bag of purchases in one hand while skipping along to the exit of the mart. In avid frustration, the Champion lunged for the container, grabbing hold of it and tearing the precious objects from the girl, despite her screams of protest.

"Now, what did you buy that was so damn important?"

"Hey, give those back! You can't see them yet!"

As he ran out of the sliding doors like a child playing keep away, the girl followed suit, screeching at the top of her lungs and attracting strange stares at the arguing couple. Her proclamations only made the Champion want to annoy her even further, especially since he had to suffer at the wrath of fan girls _and_ some stupid shopping trip. Reaching his hand into the glittering bag, he managed to clutch onto the fabric of his new cape, pulling it out in confusion.

"A cape? Since when do you wear capes?"

Keiko, stomping in obvious anger, ripped the contents from his hands and clutched onto it like some precious artifact. Tears of frustration began to leak from her eyes, causing Lance to grow incredibly uncomfortable.

"I was just trying to do something nice for you guys. I wanted to get you presents in apology for how much of a brat I've been."

There was a sudden heavy sigh from the Champion as he moved to the girl and shoved her forwards, making her walk in some toiling stroll, stumbling and tripping a few steps as they progressed down the street towards Whitney's gym to meet with the rest of their odd group. Handing her the bag back and trying to disappear under the scrutiny of strangers' eyes bombarding him with obvious discontent (how dare he upset such a nice girl!), his voice managed to retain a calm demeanor again.

"You don't need to give us gifts in order to make us feel appreciated or redeem your cruddy behavior."

Lifting her sullen gaze from the pebbles on the side of the street, the female curiously peered up at him.

"Realize that you've been forgiven."

Afterwards there was a slight pause, in which Keiko had the time to form a grin upon her face and Lance had snatched the cape out her hands again.

"I'll still take the cape though."


	11. Aria

Hey everyone, The Carillon now has over 1200 hits (which makes me super excited and happy), so thank you all for reading! Enjoy the newest chapter!

* * *

_Evil shall not prevail-_

_As long as you persevere._

* * *

With the laden atmosphere of tranquility surrounding the mansion, Eusine took the poignant time to settle down in the depths of his favorite couch, perusing the Ruins of Alph book Keiko had managed to acquire for him. The past week had seen many bouts of chaos, mostly caused by Lance and Keiko's screeching (which could reach surprisingly high decibels) as they acted like rotten children, arguing about random things that held little use for anyone or anything.

The researcher had figured part of the tension seething along the landscape was due to the unknown; no one had the slightest clue as to how Keiko was supposed to gain enough power to persuade the Clear Bell to do her bidding. No matter how many books Eusine read or whom the team conversed with on the topic, naught contained anything concerning such a matter.

Unfortunately, the longer it took to grapple for a source of evidence, the more the Carillon and Champion argued.

All thoughts of either retaining any amount of maturity had flown out the window in the preceding days. There had been more fights than Eusine could count, though he was glad they had not yet resorted to throwing food at one another over dinner (but he couldn't be sure if this was out of respect to the maids), as they usually just glared at each other while eating. Lately, each quarrel had been more foolish than the last, as though they were eager to unleash any particular frustration out on one another.

At first Eusine had thought they truly disliked each other; that the bickering and quarrels were methods of showing their hatred and animosity, but now, he regarded it as strangely _normal_ and nothing more. The feuding had become an everyday occurrence, and it wouldn't be a full day if a maid hadn't been sent running to cower in a hiding place due to their ridiculous antics.

The researcher found the proceedings very odd, for not once had he been privy to such spectacles before the arrival of Keiko. Lance had always been a bit arrogant, but nonetheless cordial and polite to Morty and himself, but with the child, it was a whole other story. He wasn't sure if the actions from both trainers were some sort of crude bonding ritual as a way to show their respect for one another, or if they truly enjoyed acting like spoiled brats in front of everyone. Maybe they found it an easier way to bond, crossing any thought of niceties out and allowing various explosions to culminate as a means of kinship.

He couldn't understand it. As a man of research, he tried to construe logic into the frays, but would constantly end up with nothing. They were absolutely nonsensical in their dramatics. Had Lance not rescued the Carillon, even apologized to her? Had she not given him a gift to justify her regret? Apparently it had been wrong for Eusine to even assume that they would all get along after messes had been cleaned up. Perhaps, as the researcher attempted to surmise, they were rising to the challenges each set. A snide comment made by Keiko could only be approached with an equally, or much more maddening, reply by the dragon master, and thus the cycle would continue and bring the wish for serenity to anyone around them; a stupid game orchestrated by immature idiots.

A heavy sigh filtered along his chest and out into the warm air as the man nestled against the arm of his sofa, fingering the pages of the novel lightly and enjoying the peaceful silence. The early morning was always a serene time for him, and without Morty around (who had gone to his gym to receive a recent challenge), there was no need to entertain or divulge into clues around the Carillon; he could simply relax for an hour or two.

For several minutes Eusine could only wonder and speculate the oddness of Lance not being up as he always took a dawn ride on one of his dragons, yet, here it was almost seven and the Champion hadn't made an appearance. Staring into space for another moment, Eusine crinkled his brow in thought, trying to decipher the suspicious silence before giving up and allowing his eyes to linger back over the containments of his book.

Unfortunately, all was to be interrupted by a scream.

A series of angry yells and retorts seemed to fly in a fury above Eusine's head, causing his attention to be pilfered off towards the winding staircase, where the commotion seemed to be brewing. Only two people in the household could even begin to cause such a ruckus, and so, Eusine allowed another heavy sigh to break across the air and watched as the peace dissipated.

"Stop being so lazy and get up!"

"Stop being so annoying and leave me alone! Hey, don't come in here!"

The researcher could have sworn he heard a few objects flying and hitting against a wall or another human being (the thud was a bit hard to distinguish), and shook his head in sorrow. There went any chance of getting some good reading time in.

"I'll drag you out myself!"

"You wouldn't **dare**."

A string of curses and more screams soon followed, compelling Eusine to finally rise from his comfortable seat and cease the argument before the maids started complaining again. His stroll was not leisurely, long limbs carrying him up the stairs in a hurried motion, hoping to salvage one last bit of tranquility from the chaotic and foolish individuals intending to destroy it.

His eyes could only widen as he became witness to the scene. Lance had apparently forced his way into Keiko's room (the notion of privacy had vanished within the mansion as of late) in attempts to wake her up early for whatever reason and was now struggling to drag her out of the fortress. Random objects lay askew in various directions across the bedroom and out into the hallway, though luckily for Eusine, the girl had chosen to throw inexpensive wares at the dragon tamer.

Turning around the corner to view the rest of the chaos, the researcher shook his head in dismay as a teenage girl was besting the pride of the Pokemon League and Blackthorn City. While the Champion had her feet bound by his tight grasp, the child still had her arms wrapped around the headboard of her bed, refusing to let go in all her pajama-ed glory. As she squirmed Lance could only mutter proclamations of hatred and struggle to hold onto her legs, which were threatening to kick him in the face if he loosened his grip at all. He continued to tug on Keiko, thinking that if he pulled hard enough she would eventually have to let go of her precious bed, deciding to ignore her squeals and wails of protest. Even her Quilava was getting in on the action, trying to singe Lance's shoes.

Deciding to end the ridiculous quarrel, Eusine cleared his throat as he stood in the doorway, surprising both trainers, since they had been far too consumed in their antics to even notice his presence. Keiko had the mindset to be incredibly embarrassed, her face flushing and arms letting go of the wooden piece she had been holding onto for a length of time, hands straightening out her pajamas in order to maintain some amount of dignity.

"Sorry Eusi-"

Lance, on the other hand, decided this was a grand opportunity to execute his mission, cutting off the girl's apologies to the owner of the house. Noticing Keiko relax her position, or at least cower in embarrassment, he took the moment to grab hold of her lithe frame and throw it over his shoulder like a sack of grain, amidst sudden curses and beatings on his back.

"Let go of me! Put me down this instant!"

The Champion ignored the child's kicking and punching, walking over to the doorway and wearing a wide smirk that spoke of his recent accomplishments. Eusine arched a brow at the entire foray, incredibly curious as the girl continued to pound the daylights out of the individual who had captured her, and the latter acted as though nothing was wrong.

"Morning, Eusine. Sorry about the noise, the girl simply doesn't understand a thing about manners. A shame, she'd been working so hard on that."

"What? _I_ don't have any manners?"

Keiko's retort went unheard as Lance proceeded down the stairs with the girl in tow, though Eusine managed to question the antics of the morning before the dragon master ran too far off.

"Might I ask what you're doing?"

The smirk, still wide and furnished to the Champion's face, was even more embellished as he turned to address the researcher.

"While the ghost trainer is away, the idiot shall train."

* * *

"Sheryl, the Boss wants to see you."

The young Rocket Grunt rose her head from the pile of papers she was currently filing away in a cabinet, instantly feeling the heightened sense of dread running through her veins. Managing to procure some formidable stare towards the other Grunt who had been charged to summon her, she walked towards the door, hands shaking vibrantly as she clasped onto the knob and swiftly turned it, allowing for her to escape into the hallway.

There had always been something sinister about their Rocket Boss, with his cold, dark eyes and gleaming smirk, as though he always had something up his sleeve and would never hesitate to unravel it, no matter how dangerous. He was not a man to be reckoned with, formidable in every sense of the word, always plotting, always twisting some scheme in his head.

The youth couldn't be sure if he had always been this way. Sheryl was aware that he had risen through the ranks at a young age, and now, in his late thirties, he had become the ruler of their regiment, which was of course, currently in charge of capturing the Carillon, and thus, adding Suicune to Team Rocket's large capital of Pokemon.

Unfortunately, if the Boss had been heralded as cruel and malevolent before the past couple of weeks, Sheryl wasn't sure how to describe him now. With the rescue of the precious Carillon by her caretakers, the Boss was made to look like a fool. Not only had he been incapable of dragging the girl to their side while she was held in her cell, but he was also knocked out by the formidable Lance of the Pokemon League, who took the opportunity to pose as the Boss while the latter remained unconscious. Throughout the confusion and lack of orders from the head of their department, the rest of the Rockets had attempted to rally, but were quickly wiped out by the expert dragon master, losing their prize. The end result left the Rockets in a state of shock, and the Boss determined to get back what they had lost by any means.

This time, he had ordered different methods of gaining the Carillon. The week prior, he had issued the Grunts a decisive task: to steal the Clear Bell. Most had been ignorant to the status of such an artifact, but Sheryl was not among the confused. The daughter of a former Rocket leader, and hoping to eventually find herself in such a position, she had been taught various legends and fables amongst the Pokemon world for many years of her young life. This, of course, included the story of Suicune, his beloved Carillon, and the Clear Bell that tied them together.

While the other Grunts tried to figure out what the Clear Bell was, as they were often not given field jobs or even told the true inclinations of their departments, Sheryl had gone towards the Goldenrod Radio Tower, having heard rumors that the sacred chime was hidden there. Dressing in maid clothing, she managed to deceive the Director into believing she was a new worker, and quickly made her way into his office.

The only problem was that she had been unaware of where to look, and panicking when she heard voices minutes later; she dove for the first thing resembling anything legendary on the Director's desk. Clutching the book in her hands, Sheryl had torn off into the night, never realizing that she had been moments away from the Carillon and the unraveling of the Clear Bell.

In any matter, the young Grunt had figured the book would be of some use. When she returned from the field task she had handed it to her Supervisor, hoping that it would bring her good favor with the Boss. Now, a week later, she was surely going to find out.

Her hands wrung with trepidation, fingers gliding to her long, red hair and twisting it into various knots as she nervously meandered the hallway, taking as long as possible to reach the door to the Boss's office. Breaths were uneven and raspy, chest heaving with stress, trying desperately to calm her nerves.

Recently, those that had met with the leader often came out with their faces stained with tears or a strangled hold of fear written all over their complexion, and she certainly didn't want to be another victim of his cruel retorts or hostile dominion. Taking a deep, shaking breath, the girl raised her hand to the hilt of the door, ringing her knuckles on its surface.

"Come in."

The cold, hardened voice issued a shudder through her light frame, but the girl managed to swallow her fear away and open the heavy door, closing it gently behind her as she eyed the Boss, sitting at his desk with an impassive gaze resting on his features.

It was obvious where the Champion had struck him, for a yellow and green tinged bruise rested beneath his eyes, the bridge of his nose slightly cracked and trying desperately to heal. It appeared to give him an even more fearful and contemptuous gaze, and Sheryl made sure to not glance at him for very long, afraid of instigating his ire before anything actually happened. Instead, she opted to stare at the tiled floor.

"You are the Grunt that managed to procure this book, yes?"

Sheryl's eyes lifted to watch the Boss wave the old, decrepit book she had grabbed from the Director with his left hand, firmly nodding to give her affirmation.

"Yes, sir."

She witnessed the Boss lower the precious tome to his desk, opening the cover to reveal its contents. She had never actually viewed the text within the stolen object, and now that she was privy its hold, she found her heart racing, exploding in her chest with a fierce frenzy of nerves once again.

It was in a different language, a different time period, clearly incapable of being read by the normal, educated eye. She had messed up. Even with her best attempts, she had floundered and stumbled, faltered and come up with nothing worthwhile. The novel was useless, a waste of all efforts. Sheryl felt her face flush in embarrassment, heat rising to her head and coursing over the rest of her body like dancing flames, embers intent on glistening along the surface until smoldering ash had seized her.

"I'm sure you thought it would be sufficient enough to replace the Clear Bell."

There was no movement made on Sheryl's part as the dark man began his speech, knowing full well that her words were not necessary now. Her body threatened to shake like a leaf, hovering on the brink of running out of the room in terror and trying to be strong, have courage and believe that there could be some sort of reprieve.

"I'm sure you thought it would provide us with some great information in order to rekindle our efforts for the Carillon."

She dared not stir, dared not speak.

"Well, you were wrong."

The edge in his voice had only grown colder, a grating ice shifting against the girl's eardrums and coursing over her heart as it pounded in her chest. In one fell swoop the Boss picked up the book again, raising it high over his head, and let it fly across the room with an obvious rage. The text landed with a thud, falling apart at various portions along the seam, flopping onto the ground with a great wafting sadness, as though another portion to the great mystery of the world had just died, leaving behind no clues to trace. Sheryl could only look on in great misery as the Boss continued his tirade, his yells echoing across the office and shoved against her in some suffocating malice.

"The damn book is incapable of being read! It's in some ancient text that few can read and understand, which apparently doesn't include any of my Scientists! What am I supposed to do with this?"

The Grunt could only wonder if she was here now for his personal amusement, to watch her contort and ripple into some puddle of goo at his immense and intense fury.

"You orchestrated a brilliant waste of time. Not only did you have the opportunity to snatch the Clear Bell and failed at that, but rumor has it that the Carillon was coming into the office that day! You could have snagged both!"

Sheryl began to hope that the ground would somehow manage to open up beneath her and swallow her whole. Prior to this jaunt into the Boss's hold, she thought she had done a swell job at her first field assignment, managing to placate what had been lost.

Oh how very wrong she had been.

"However, I have another job for you. You'll certainly be able to make up for your blunder."

A shiver ran down her spine as she watched the leader's smirk widen.

* * *

The jaunt to their destination was, without a doubt, a dangerous time for Lance. He had been threatened with various warnings on potential beatings, torture, and the chance that he would never be able to bear children, all laced from the mouth of the Carillon. Unfortunately for her, she had not yet found herself capable of getting out of the Champion's grasp, wriggling and squirming with almost no power left in her reserves.

Upon arrival to Eusine's back yard, which could only be described as an overwhelmingly large field, the dragon master dumped the girl onto the lawn so that she landed with a supreme lack of grace and mighty thud, finally granted her wish. He leaned down towards her as she sat on the ground with some stunned look written on her face, smirking all the while.

"Ah, sorry about that. Forgot you were up there."

A string of curses was let loose from the child's mouth as she rose, pushing him out of her way and struggling to obtain any form of dignity, picking grass off of her pajama bottoms.

"Now now, that isn't very ladylike. Where on earth did you get such a potty mouth?"

Not rising to his current instigations, Keiko folded her arms in front of her chest, achieving an unimpressed look, furrowing her brows and locking onto the other amused trainer's eyes. She even managed to tap her foot, as though trying to achieve an impatient attitude.

"So what is this all about? Why on earth did I have to get up at the crack of dawn?"

Resorting to his cool, calm and collected stance, Lance shifted his hands into his pockets, leaning back and forth on the soles of his feet and watching Keiko twitch in irritation.

"Oh, guess you didn't hear me while you were screaming like a banshee, eh?"

Rolling her eyes and glancing away to see if there was any other distraction to tear her away from the current scene, Keiko grumbled to herself and awaited some form of explanation.

Assuming the silence meant he had the floor to speak again, or that she was mad at him (both very likely presumptions), the Champion raised a brow and continued.

"I figured since we were all unaware of how to get you to obtain power, I came up with my own solution."

There was a meaningful pause, in which the elder trainer waited for the girl's reaction, giving her a moment to stare curiously at him before raising his voice to a more dramatic decibel, longing for it to seem powerful and wise.

"Gaining badges."

His speech had the opposite effect, as the child began to giggle, pretending to snarl and responding through chuckles and a hand now muffling the jubilee.

"That…sounds so mundane."

The Champion immediately heightened to some defensive posture, correcting his stance so despite them not being relatively close to one another, he was clearly the taller, more powerful creature within the domain. He narrowed his eyes, lacking the same amusement the girl had procured at his expense.

"I believe it's better than anything you've come up with, correct? Anyway, in order to gain badges, you have to train. Since Morty is the next Gym leader you face, I figured we would take this opportunity while he isn't present."

"Wait, you're going to help me train? What the hell, you'll knock me out in one move!"

The girl blanched at his decree, launching into some formulated pout and throwing her arms wildly into the air, hoping her disgruntlement would get across in the form of random gestures.

In response, a cocky smirk was laid back along Lance's face, widening as the child grew even more frustrated by the moment.

"Oh c'mon now, I caught low-level Pokemon simply for this very reason. Now…what do you need? Like, level 5?"

"Are you kidding me? I have three badges-"

The dragon tamer took that moment to laugh, leaning closer to the child and bringing a hand close to her face, yet, the girl took on only a defiant pose at his interrupting chortles. The arrogant snicker was followed by a playful flick to the girl's nose and a haughty, superior tone to his voice.

"You do realize three badges isn't very impressive to me? I believe I have…eight and a Champion title?"

"Oh shut up."

* * *

Unknown to the two trainers outside the hold of Eusine's mansion, Morty had already returned to the secretive palace, waltzing up the grounds with mail in hand. He paused for a moment at the door of the house, thinking he heard shouting coming from the other end, but shrugged it off and continued into the entrance.

Wandering into the living room, the ghost trainer found Eusine ensconced along the larger couch absorbed into the book Keiko had bought for him, oblivious to everything but the text. Raising an eyebrow, Morty allowed a short clearing of his throat to be heard and reverberate along the room, awakening Eusine to his presence.

Startled, the researcher set his book down before apologizing and allowing his grand smile to envelop along his face.

"Ah, sorry Morty, I didn't realize you had come back. I was just trying to get some reading done in the peace and quiet. I take it the challenge didn't take long?"

"Not at all – the challenger didn't really know what they were doing. Speaking of peace and quiet, where are the monsters?"

"You mean you didn't hear them shrieking in the back yard?"

Morty nodded his head, remembering the loud yells he had heard when first approaching the threshold before placing his bag on the floor and continuing the questioning further, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Oh, I should have realized…what are they doing?"

"Killing each other, I would imagine. I'll be sure to stop the bloodshed before breakfast."

As the banter of mocking Keiko and Lance ended and Eusine's calm gaze wandered back over to his book, Morty could only wonder, for a few brief moments, what it was like for the researcher to suddenly have so many people in his household (especially those with such loud and vigorous personalities). Sure, there were quite a number of maids and butlers within the mansion, but they were quiet and demure, providing their services and duties with humble smiles and reserved affection. The rest of them were bundled up in the shelter of the formidable mansion, offering nothing but their own frequent musings and in the case of the Champion and Carillon, childish antics.

Were they intruding on Eusine's hospitality? Didn't he miss the peace and tranquility, the serenity of being able to carry on his reading, studies, and research without being hampered by various interruptions? Weren't they a burden? These speculations ran rampant throughout the ghost trainer's mind, seizing all thoughts and continuing to build in fragmented webs, questions that would never be asked to the one being who could answer them.

Where would they be without Eusine's immense warmth and kindness? Surely Morty would be at his frail cottage in Ecruteak, bored and spending his days exploring the depths of legends with no real meaning fostered.

Lance would probably be at the Pokemon League or Blackthorn City, chasing after his beloved dragons and waiting for someone to come and challenge his status, only for them to realize the goal was futile.

And Keiko-the ghost trainer had his doubts that she would be safe and secure. Maybe that was why Eusine was doing all of this. Despite all of the hazards laying along the surface, the threat of ruin and destruction lying in their wake, there was this girl that needed their help, their salvation, their guidance. Perhaps in the beginning it the notion of protecting her had been constructed out of guilt, since Lance and Eusine had managed to raise the alarm to Team Rocket, yet now, the girl had shown how much she needed each and every one of them beyond such measures.

It wasn't duty, but a simple necessity. Eusine opened his doors for all of them, simply so they could take care of a child that needed their support. Without them, there was no promise that she wouldn't be in Team Rocket's hold, or merely floundering in the wake of destiny. Keiko may have been strong with her defiance and gall, but together they were even mightier, a fortress difficult to crack and destroy.

Reminding himself that his musings may have left him silent and standing listlessly in the living room, the man reached into his pockets and pulled out the day's mail, distracting his thoughts to more pressing matters.

"Oh, I've got today's mail…Lance received another letter."

This proclamation caused Eusine's head to shoot up, the book now lacking his attention as he took the stack of paper from Morty's offered hand. He shuffled through the pile before coming across the same scrawl and print as before, removing it with speculative ease and narrowing his slits.

"Very interesting."

* * *

"Rocky, Rock Throw!"

A towering snake of stones dove across the makeshift battle arena, rampaging towards the tiny, cerulean Dratini on the other side. The massive Onix turned its tail swiftly, launching various boulders towards the small creature, roaring with all his might at the target, as the Dratini seemed to scrunch down in defense.

"Dratini, fight it off with Dragon Rage!"

The little dragon holstered itself back up from the ground, eyeing the huge beast as it continued to pierce the floor with its onslaught of rocks. It seized an open opportunity, at which Lance allowed a smirk to widen across his features as the demure Pokemon managed to land a series of smoldering flames upon the Onix's backside.

The Onix's trainer, the now panicking Carillon, screamed across the battlefield as her beloved creature suffered at the mindset of the Champion and his dragon.

"Shoot! Rocky, move!"

"You have to be quicker than that. Tsk tsk."

The training was abruptly interrupted by a movement at the back door, a gentle hand probing it open, followed by a familiar figure dressed in maid clothing. She bowed timidly after receiving the attention of Lance and Keiko, her face soon holding nothing more than shock as she looked at the view in front of her.

The two had managed to secure some portion of the backyard as a coliseum, flanking off various areas for their divided sides, complete with rubble and scorch marks laying across the once lovely patches of green grass. The trainers themselves were a mess, the Carillon bedraggled in her pajamas and the Champion's usually neat garb disheveled and wrinkled. The maid could only imagine what the wild beasts had been doing, her eyes bulging out of their sockets, appalled and surprised all over again by the antics of Keiko and Lance.

The aforementioned creatures could only look on in mild curiosity, turning to each other in speculation as to why the poor woman was fretting and looking so downright fearful.

"M…Master Lance and Madame K-Keiko, br. eakfast is ready…"

Obviously incapable of informing the idiots of the household that a wholesome meal had been sufficiently prepared, Eusine (ever the charmer) came to her rescue. Shaking his head the disturbing scene (and silently longing to cry over his ruined lawn), he poked his frame out of the back door and relayed the message again as the maid hurried back inside.

"All right demons, time for breakfast!"

Keiko needed no other opportunity than this one to escape, quickly returning her beast to his chosen Pokeball and shooting off like a rocket towards the door, where Eusine's warm hand ruffled the top of her head and tangled hair before she entered the mansion's hold.

Lance quietly muttered to himself as he picked up his forgotten cape and allowed his Pokemon to rest in the warming sun, following the Carillon at his own steady pace. He didn't look up from his slow walk until he noticed the researcher was blocking his entrance. Lifting his head curiously, the Champion found an annoyed gaze resting on Eusine's features.

In response, the charmer stuck a hand into one of his large pockets, pulling out a white envelope with the recognizable handwriting of Clair and the Pokemon League littered across it. He then proceeded to lift it to Lance's eye level, waving it in front of his face before the dragon tamer had a chance to snatch it from his grasp.

"So much for taking care of it, hm?"


	12. Sturm und Drang

Oh my, I'm alive! I can only apologize a million times for taking so long to write this chapter, but with my college education being the root of all evil, I only now had time to deliver this to you guys. I'm sorry. :( Enjoy?

* * *

_Turmoil and unrest,  
Feast on life as though a cruel test._

_

* * *

_

If Eusine was actually frightened of the Champion before him then the narrowing of the dragon master's eyes, the disgruntled needling of his scowl and the tightening of his lips would have conveyed a sense of danger, a pinnacle point in their short juncture to actually flee and not be in the redhead's sight for an especially long period of time. But Eusine knew no harm would come to his flesh, that he was not in jeopardy with the undefeated trainer, and could prolong their meaningful discussion without too much hassle.

When he received no other reply from the trainer, except for the notable and distinct contortions of annoyance displayed about his face, the researcher continued, swinging the opened envelope from one hand to another, tracing his fingertips over the crinkled edges.

"You need to tell me what's going on, Lance."

A heavy sigh floated from the Champion's chest, labored and cumbersome, declaring his displeased sentiments before he could open his mouth. He was granted a slight reprieve from responding to Eusine's statement when a blonde head poked out of the previously closed doorway.

"Is something wrong?"

The young girl's curiosity caused a slight raising of tension amongst the two males, and easily Eusine fostered a charming voice without looking away from Lance, his normally passive stare clinging to the Master's in a hardened, rigid poise, something he didn't wish the teenager to see.

"Don't worry about it, my dear Keiko. Some of us just need to have a small chat with one another."

Not catching the hint, the eager child stepped from the contents of the doorframe and walked towards the planted feet of Eusine, turning towards both comrades in a sense of inquisitive nature, tilting her head from one stiff male to the next.

"Oh, well is it about what we're going to do? I think I should be part of the discussion then if it concerns me-"

"Not everything revolves around you. Go back inside and stuff your face."

Lance's sharp snap had come quickly, using it as a means to unleash his current frustrations, landing precariously upon a victim that didn't deserve the attack. At her somewhat hurt appearance after his harsh words, he looked away, not bothering to apologize for the outburst, presuming she would let it go and allow it to land as all the other blows had done.

The flaming haired individual missed the scorching look of disapproval upon the researcher's face, followed by the attempt to delay wronged feelings unto Keiko by affectionately ruffling her hair as she stumbled past him, but Eusine's palm only met air as she ducked beneath his hand and sauntered back into the house without another word passed.

Shutting the door behind her, she could only turn and look back upon the researcher and Champion, wonder how long they had been keeping secrets from each other and her, if she had perhaps poignantly stepped upon a limited territory of trust and was floating in a sea of intrigue not meant for her ears.

* * *

"That slight to Keiko was unnecessary, and you know it. Try not to take your frustrations out on others, especially when you are the one that has been cornered and trapped. Now then, tell me why as though it appears you will be leaving us in a few weeks."

The scolding from Eusine's calm but reprimanding speech settled along the Champion's bones, feeling the sting of the scorning and steeling his gaze into some form of impassiveness, shuffling his arms together as he advanced away from the mansion and possible prying ears. He was quietly pursued by the researcher, and knew with resolute clarity that there was no escape for him this time, no passing Keiko to draw the attention away from him and his failings.

Leaning against a nearby, finely furnished tree, the Champion gathered himself with another burdened sigh, flicking his cold eyes to the unruffled ones of Eusine, allowing a frustrated voice to penetrate the surroundings.

"They're not taking no for an answer. I am to arrive at the Pokemon League headquarters in three weeks."

The dragon master almost envied how the wise researcher could easily remain composed, even when he was obviously frustrated on the inside, longing to wring someone's neck with his perfectly manicured hands.

"Didn't you inform them that you had other obligations?"

The Champion struggled to relax against the trunk of the tree, the bark grinding into his dark cape and along his spine helped to cause discomfort he was sure would only increase in the days and weeks to come. His voice, aggravated by the proceedings, continued with explanation unto a soul that always craved such developed information.

"Apparently being the Champion is my only responsibility in life worth meaning, and I can't possibly explain to them that my buddies and I just happened to stumble upon the Carillon, so we're out Suicune hunting, sorry. Besides, I'm suspicious of them. What is so important that I must be there at all costs? Surely this grand army isn't everything."

"I've been wondering the same. But Lance, if you go, what is to become of Keiko and us?"

Eusine's brow had now furrowed, displaying a face noteworthy of contemplation and mystery, as though he was trying to decipher the miniscule clues left by the Pokemon League and the tiny group's future in one single moment.

"Please. I shouldn't be gone too long. I'll dig up some information while I train weak kids, it'll be simple. Everything will go smoothly. You guys can handle it, and you can just tell Keiko to gather badges and train while I'm off."

Despite the self-assured behavior, none of that confidence rang about his insides. He worried for them, for her, for their goal, if everything would come undone as soon as he vacated the premises and their sides. He wanted nothing more than to believe his silly notions that those left behind would be fine and dandy, that not a single struggle would surface, that none of them would come to harm and they could spend their days in regal bliss without him nearby, ever the protector, ever the knight.

Besides, if he had learned anything about their small band, it was that Keiko and Eusine had a knack for getting themselves in trouble, Keiko due to her ignorance and what he figured was stupidity, and Eusine for being far too inquisitive and landing himself in hot water. With only Morty to reign in their childish impulses, Lance was wary of leaving them to their own devices.

The very idea that Keiko would even be content with him running off, especially when she had tried on numerous occasions, was not going to earn him very many sunshine smiles and jovial laughter in his direction either. It was cowardly, but he didn't want to be the next one to disappoint her.

Maybe he didn't have to tell her at all…

"_I_ can tell her? You don't plan on informing her of your departure?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure…whenever."

That plan effectively ruined, Lance managed to grind his back against the tree trunk even harder, hoping the pain would rid him of any future agony and torture in the days to come. Why did Eusine have to be the voice of reason all the time?

"Just like that? _Hey Keiko I'm leavin' for a little bit, see ya?_ You don't think its big deal? She's come to rely on you, on all of us."

"Its out of my control, Eusine. If I didn't have to do this, I wouldn't. Give me some time, I'll let her know."

A wily smile appeared across the lips of Eusine, a hearty laugh or two at the contemplation of Lance's foreboding doom.

"Good. If you don't, I will. Trust me, I will delight in the beating she gives you."

* * *

Morty found Keiko strangely quiet during breakfast, silently munching on her scrambled eggs and sausage while slipping her Quilava pieces of bacon. As he watched her with calculating eyes from the rim of his newspaper, he wondered if her listless mood was due to the lack of Lance, since they often fought at each and every meal, perhaps he had just never seen her without seething remarks flying from her mouth in the Champion's direction, and this was how she normally was.

Pondering on the notion further, he knew this couldn't possibly be true. Even without Lance nearby, causing some sort of ruckus in the household, she was never this subdued, never this hushed or soundless. Keiko was vivacious and spirited, vibrant and sparkling, even in the midst of confusion or frustration. Pursing his lips in thought, he lowered his newspaper and diligently invited her to conversation.

"Is something the matter?"

The child's head immediately flipped upwards from staring at her unfinished meal, as though alarmed anyone would think anything was bothering her, despite her inability to hide it. Poking at a few stray eggs lingering on her plate, she lowered her gaze, uncomfortable in the all-knowing stare of the ghost trainer.

"Have you ever felt like you were out of the loop? That someone wasn't telling you something?"

Folding his newspaper upon the table and lifting his coffee-cup to his lips, Morty studied her, deciphered the meaning behind her queries. No doubt it had something to do with Eusine's recent confrontation with Lance that she had mistakenly walked in on. With an easygoing smile lingering along his lips, he decided to indulge her.

"At times, though eventually the matters are solved. This is what plagues you – the idea that we are withholding information from you?"

"More or less."

He couldn't tell her now. It wasn't his place, nor did he have full understanding of the situation, as he was not part of the party outside discussing the matters at length. In the end, he had to remain cryptic and enigmatic, offering little but reassurance to the child and hoping he hadn't been mistaken in doing so.

"Ah. Well, I have no doubt that all will come to fruition in time. They aren't telling you now, but they will tell you later."

A heavy sigh from Keiko soon followed, but the early sign of a small smile also glimmered at the corner of her lips, allowing Morty to feel as though he had aided her in the short conversation, continuing to sip his coffee as the other members of their group conducted an important meeting.

"That wasn't the answer I was looking for, but I suppose I'll take what I can get."

* * *

If Sheryl was anything, she was a go-getter. If there happened to be some desirable token dangling before her eyes, she would somehow manage to persevere and grab that coveted item, entangle her fingers across its enriching surface and cling with all her might. From a very early age, she learned that if she yearned for something, she needed to reach out and take it, by any means necessary. A Grunt with brains, a rare find these days, Sheryl knew she had to make up for her lost dignity, as it had been shattered beside the remnants of the forlorn book she had stolen recently, now safely hidden in various pieces within her jacket pocket. Now was the moment to strike, to somehow worm her way into the true world of the Carillon, weasel and ensnare any tidbit of information to convey to the rest of the Rocket world.

Perhaps luck was truly on Sheryl's side.

The group of trainers was instantly recognizable as they crossed the various thresholds of Ecruteak City. A power emanated from them, caused people to stare, to double take and whisper secretly to their closest neighbor. Like a fashioned clique, they enamored and allured, wafted with a certain air of respect and sovereignty, wandered into the streets as though they were lingering upon a crimson carpet that only their audience could see.

Though this was the first time the eager Grunt had ever seen such people in person, she was sure of which was which, a simple flicking of her eyes conveyed the identity of these souls, distinguished and refined in the poise of majestic idols.

The researcher, Eusine, with his charming smile and stylish clothing, waltzed at the head of the pack with an air of a gentleman and the gaze of a wise man, settling into his sage forefront whenever need be. The knowledge he retained and preserved could be seen right along his face, maintained in his keen, knowing sight. The flamboyant and eloquent entity he possessed marched alongside his brightly hued cape and lavender suit, charismatic and drawing to the eye, a hand-spun series of fascinations.

Morty, the cool, refined ghost master, was blessed with amazing tact and observation, a resonating power of majesty that floated along his prowess so easily. There was an immense amount of cunning and sharp wit wrapped around his soul, of shrewd perception and crafty design that no one wanted to be on the wrong end of. He was too astute to be tricked, too clever to be messed with.

And then, there was the Champion of the Pokemon League, Lance. The sense of his calculating demeanor immediately flooded Sheryl's core, the fearsome edge of power simmering along her veins, the dominant display of confidence and brash hostility causing her narrowed slits to widen. Out of the group of males, there was no doubt in her mind that he was the one to fear the most. Known for his cunning and display of raw mastery, there was hardly a refined gesture to his namesake, but he didn't need it. All who knew of his name feared or respected him, if not a little bit of both.

The last member of the troupe sauntered easily beside the dragon tamer, skipping along as though she hadn't a care in the world. The young Grunt quickly realized the other girl could only be the rumored Carillon, but truly didn't know what to make of her. She didn't radiate the same distinct coursing of power that the others had, as though something was untapped and waiting for the right moment to awaken. She was too carefree, too innocent, too seemingly pure to meander beside great masters of intellect and power, but despite such an image, continued to amble along in their shadows, aligning herself with their path of prowess and proficiency, yet displaying none of her own.

Watchful and protective eyes would glide over the young girl from time to time as she merrily made her way across the yard with the rest of her group, carefully guarded and secure. She was not allowed out of their sight or out of their mind, a protected ward, a precious jewel glinting in the serene sun, dazzling viewers with speculation and curiosity.

What was it about the child that made Suicune decide to yield to her, and only her? Sheryl could find nothing that set her apart from other trainers wandering around the tiny villa. The girl was pretty, but Pokemon didn't rely on looks for their important decision-making. She had a certain charm that could probably win over many a stranger, but why would that appeal to a legendary beast? There was no overwhelming power exuding from her mere appearance, so what was it? What called the mighty, sacred canine to this seemingly fragile being?

The Grunt turned her attention to the four once more as they wandered ever closer to her. There was some sort of ruckus going on in the back, and so Sheryl's eyes roamed to Lance and Keiko as they seemed to playfully push one another in a brash argument.

The Rocket member paid no attention to the words or meaning behind the quarrel, but rather the actions of both parties. The Carillon had seemingly come alive before her eyes, overshadowing all former pretenses and allowing herself to be unearthed from some hidden chains. With their silly shouts and mockingly angry bellows, there was a sudden confidence and defiance stirring along Keiko's visage, a flourishing presence of boldness that didn't exist when she had been simply roaming along before. Was this what Suicune had seen? A noteworthy presence of mettle, nerve, and courage nestled along the child's bouncing golden locks and shimmering blue eyes?

It was strange to see the girl be free, unraveling from some strange guise due to some random fight with the Champion, but it was in that moment that Sheryl could see so many other things. As Lance flicked the child in the forehead and she countered with a heel to his foot, there was playfulness and might. As biting remarks flowed towards her ears, she maintained an air of self-assurance, but also a mixture of sadness, as though the insults were truly being taken to heart. This Carillon was an essence of untapped potential, a specimen of high regards meant to be molded and placed upon a pedestal, revered for her future feats.

It just so happened that the Rockets wanted the pedestal for themselves.

* * *

Keiko was gifted at the art of denial. She had been given many chances to practice it when she was younger as her mother's illness became worse and worse, preaching empty mantras to herself at each day's end of how her dear parent would get better the next day, and the day after that. She had learned over the course of many years on how to forget, how to move on, how to remove portions of her memory from ever taking place. By all means, the mere thought of such a habit was a self-destructive one, always managing to carve new wounds that would systematically fester until she couldn't take the pain anymore.

She didn't want that to happen again, not when she had been given yet another chance, in the stead of legends and idols, surrounded by safety and security. The mere idea that she was not fully aware of each and every thing that became privy to her three male companions and protectors was not something she wanted to think about. Keiko didn't want to believe they would hide important information from her, didn't want to even think for a moment that they were stringing her along for some silly ride she had been foolish enough to take. There was no longing for an end to trust that was just slowly beginning to develop again.

So she pretended, acted as though nothing was wrong, that she hadn't gained the sense of tension and secrets layered in the atmosphere they wandered within, sprinkled about the house, sizzling across tips of tongues but not bothering to reach her ears. She forced herself to act normal, to spar with Lance on the streets as they walked, to smile sheepishly at Eusine and Morty as they informed her of things she had not yet learned, to become an embellished actress while secretly fuming on the inside, longing to recite lines that would undoubtedly be out of place.

Forcing herself to relax and not appear so generically false and simulated, the child meandered away from Lance and further ahead, towards Eusine and Morty.

"So…Ecruteak. You guys never told me what we're going to be doing here."

She pretended like this wasn't becoming normal, that her frustrations with being left as ignorant baggage wasn't piquing, and smiled sweetly towards the individuals that could cast meager threads of light of their agenda upon her.

"Oh, my apologies, dearest Keiko. We're going to be doing further research, so it's off to the Burned Tower and Tin Tower, if we are allowed entry."

Eusine was brandishing some ridiculously sparkly grin towards the child, trying to convey some happy sentiments after she had ignored him most of the morning following the heated exchange earlier, outside the gilded mansion. He didn't want her to feel left out and unimportant, constantly lacking any guidance until necessary. She seemingly cast it aside, however, and retreated to the back near Lance once more, staring off into the distance, not goaded into another one of her impeccable smiles that lit up a room. Eusine allowed himself a moment of shame and turned back around, no longer studying the child in case she made him feel even more like a jackass.

The Carillon was so distracted by her own thoughts that she didn't notice an older, red-haired girl advancing towards her with a basket of apricorns laden within its holds until the other female had waltzed right in front of her path. The blonde was forced to stop immediately or bump into the girl with a silly, welcoming smile painted on her face.

"Hello there! Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you would be interested in buying an apricorn…"

Her speech fell a bit short as the imposing figure of Lance cut across the distance between Keiko and himself in one long stride, feeling the need to be wary as he positioned himself like that of a mighty guard and looked upon the opposing female as though she was a loathsome enemy intent on destroying his ward. Formidable words were fostered on the edge of his tongue, hoping to somehow make the stranger shrivel into a little ball and be cast aside like a tiny bug.

"Who the hell are you?"

The strange girl had the sense to at least appear dismayed and frightened, trembling slightly under her torn robes and stained hood.

"Uh Sher - Cher. I'm Cher. I didn't mean any harm, I was just wondering if the lady would like some apricorns…they make excellent Poke-balls!"

Despite Lance's glowering and seething remarks, the child was peeking curiously into the basket, smiling at the contents with a nostalgic ease. It wasn't long ago that she had picked some off of the trees and had a local molder wield them into finely crafted capturing devices.

"I can buy a blue one from you-"

"She's not buying any. C'mon Keiko."

The girl had little chance to say anything more as she was dragged off by Lance, one hand tightly strung around her arm despite any complaints and attempts to get away from his constraints.

As the duo disappeared from sight, no doubt trying to find their other companions, the redhead pulled a notebook out of her borrowed garments, smirking despite the fact that she had not sold any of her 'wares'. Penciling down a few worthy notes about Lance's overprotective nature and Keiko's trusting persona, Sheryl meandered off down a side street, deciding the information she had gathered was sufficient enough for today.

* * *

It wasn't until they came into the shadow of the Burnt Tower that Lance finally allowed Keiko to free herself from his grasp, tearing her arm out of his crushing fingers and exploding under the weight of so many frustrations. The day, though not even close to finishing, had proved to be exhausting and burdening, and she was silently grateful that she finally had the chance to release her pent-up vexations at the one soul who could take the impending hits.

She wasted no time in letting loose, wrenching herself an adequate space away from him, ignoring the figures of Morty and Eusine waiting by the ashy edges of the once lingering tower.

"Why are you such a jerk?"

Lance, equally peeved at the day's proceedings, unleashed his own annoyances, somehow providing a shouting therapy service in the midst of Ecruteak, amongst many visitors, tourists stopping to survey the scene before being ushered along by their companions in fear.

"Why are you so trusting? Haven't you learned anything?"

Everything began to spill from the child's mouth, all of the agonizing tortures she had placed upon herself, the heavy load of emotions and thoughts that had encircled her brain since this morning left to stream out into the atmosphere, little grenades intent on pummeling their chosen victim.

"Why do you set such a double-standard? You tell me to trust you guys, but not some poor girl that's trying to sell apricorns for a living. I don't know either of you very well, now do I? I keep trying to place my confidence in you, but you're ruining any reassurance I gain!"

The Champion stepped forward, intent on towering over her again, longing to show some display of dominance, that he was stronger, smarter, so irritated at the very implication that she couldn't trust any of them.

"What the hell are you talking about? You can't trust _us_? The ones who have saved you time and time again?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. Stop making this about rescue attempts and actually understand where I'm coming from. I want to know what's in that letter, what's so damn important that you couldn't tell me this morning."

The bomb had been effectively dropped. Keiko hadn't been willing to even touch the subject after this morning's outright displays of secrecy, but that had been before she was allotted this brief amount of time to simply spew out each and every thought. She was quiet for a few moments, her chest heaving from lack of breath as the words were stolen in her established series of heated wails, her gaze resting on his, the fire lit within her blue eyes and ensuring the dragon master that she was not finished. She would get her answer, one way or another.

But he knew in his heart that he wasn't ready to tell her. He couldn't. He hadn't practiced what to say, how to act, what to do…he wasn't prepared. The Champion, usually so balanced and ready for anything, was not poised or equipped to handle a teenage girl's bitter disappoint in him.

"I'm sick of it, Lance. I'm sick of the stupid secrets all of you seem to be carrying. What's so damaging that I can't hear it?"

His silence only urged her to continue, her voice growing softer as frustrations came to an agonizing light and faltered in the wake of absent screams.

"I'm not a child. I think I have the right to know what's going on. Aren't we all in this together? I thought we were a tea-"

"I'll tell you, but not here, not now, okay? At home. I'll let you know at home."

He caved, gave in to her demands, her whines, her pleas, knowing full well that no matter how many times he would refuse her wish to be told anything about what transpired, she wasn't going to relent the chase. She had too much will, and he knew the sooner or later he spoke of what was to come, the quicker she could get over it, move on, mend herself and start anew.

Of course, this didn't mean he was looking forward to it.

Keiko was a bit surprised by his sudden acquiescence, but carefully noted his muted stance, the sense of defeat around his entity, quickly deciding she didn't like such a pose along his figure as her folded arms came unglued from their previous position and dropped to her sides.

"Tonight?"

She heard a sigh flutter from his chest, a looming burden added to his shoulders, as he quietly made his way by her, as though disappointed in himself for something not yet mentioned to her. He didn't even look at her as he floated by, agreeing to her query with nothing else but a solid voice and lingering steps proceeding towards the absent tower, away from her, away from foreboding tribulations.

"Yeah. Tonight."

* * *

If Eusine and Morty were curious about the entire display in front of the burnt orifice, they didn't mention it. Instead of prying, Eusine went into his element, repeating notable information on the tower for Keiko's benefit.

"The Brass Tower, now known as the Burned Tower, is an infamous resting place for legends, like Lugia and our favored dogs. When a fire consumed the tower and those within, including Raikou, Entei, and Suicune, Ho-oh came from above and resurrected them…"

Despite the girl's gaze settling on Eusine and his excited explanations, Morty could tell her attention was not on the lecture provided to her, but on other things. Her mood was subdued once again, having flared in front of Lance for a brief interval of apparently much-needed information and the promise of a serious conversation in the future only to diminish greatly when the argument had concluded. She was missing that inner fire again, thoughts gracing the subject of that evening's impending conversation and not concentrating on the ramblings of their favorite researcher.

Morty also paid attention to Lance, noticing his mood had grown even sourer as they entered the building, no doubt trying to form some sort of logical dictation in his head as to how to break the news of his upcoming departure to his precious ward. He wasn't even bothering to pretend that he was paying attention to Eusine, who continued without a hitch in the looming silence.

"Now, Raikou is known to show up in a thunderstorm, while Entei prefers volcanoes, in fact, anytime he barks, it's said that a nearby volcano has erupted…"

The mystic seer had a prediction that nothing beneficial was going to come out of this visit, no matter how much Eusine wished it, with the other two members of their party listlessly waiting for all of it to be over, to move onto the evening's proceedings with as much haste as possible. Since he was the only one truly paying attention to what was going on, the ghost trainer took it upon himself to cease the trip, promising to start fresh tomorrow, when things would hopefully begin to settle.

"Ah, Eusine…why don't we call it a day?"

"Some consider Entei the most loyal of dogs, but I believe that its my, I mean, _our_ dear Suicune that displays these sentiments – wait, what do you mean, Morty? We just began! What about the Tin Tower?"

Morty stifled a slight chuckle at Eusine's pouting face while the Champion and Carillon watched on with renewed interest, both intent on leaving and resolving matters.

"Ah, well I feel a bit tired. Perhaps we can get a quick bite and return tomorrow?"

Eusine's visage morphed from disappointment to absolute jubilee, a grin threaded across his lips, painted on like that of a giddy schoolgirl.

'Excellent idea, Morty! Yes! We shall meet here again tomorrow, continue the rousing discussion, and then treat ourselves to the highlights of Tin Tower. Bravo, Morty."

As the researcher led the way out of the ruins, Keiko shortly behind him as though she didn't dare be caught near Lance, Morty caught the dragon tamer's eye, winking and offering an encouraging grin.

"Better now then later."

Lance's only reply was the gritting of his teeth and growing dread flowing into the contents of his stomach.


	13. Sanctum

Greetings readers! Luckily enough I was able to get this chapter done in between massive papers, so please enjoy!

Also, don't hesitate to review. I really enjoy hearing feedback from my readers, what they liked, what they didn't like, what they think about the characters, etc. When I don't receive any sort of response about the content of this story, I don't know how I'm doing. So please, please, let me know what you think, your questions, comments, concerns, etc. I'm all ears.

Thank you!

* * *

_Strength comes from not only power,  
But one's soul, one's conviction,  
One's beautiful, fluttering heart._

* * *

The last vestiges of the afternoon washed away with a palpable air of tension, warping any delicate morsels of tranquility within the household into sets of strained contortions. Upon their return to the mansion the team had split up amongst themselves, Keiko to her bedroom to stew silently until the evening's arrival, Morty and Eusine to the living room to converse on whatever topic suited them the best, and Lance set to pacing the back lawn, methodically capturing satisfactory lines to recite to the Carillon when she could be bothered to find him for their ominous chat.

Keiko's long, drawn-out sighs and her disgruntled features had captured the attention of the maids, and they were left to presume that Master Lance had something to do with the child's vexed appearance, resolving to figure out the cause at another venture. Some attempted to knock on the open door, but were met with pleas from the girl to be left alone, and cowered off to finish their daily chores.

The festering anxiety filtering about her stomach caused a series of unfortunate memories to spring about, with blinding flashes of hospital waiting rooms, her mother's empty bedroom and one more recent reminder of misgivings: a dirty prison cell lined with shackles. After stuffing her face into her pillow for a few quiet moments in hopes of changing her worrisome breathing into a normal pace, the girl rose from her laden position on the daybed and tried desperately to seal her nerves as she crossed the entryway from her room to the next hall and down the stairs.

Locating Lance became a much simpler matter than Keiko had expected, as the knowing eyes of the researcher and ghost trainer had found her worried slits and directed her towards the nearest backyard door. Shaking fingertips opened the latch with ease, and stepping out into the sunset's powerful rays, she found the dragon tamer, sitting alone amongst the vivid hues of orange, crimson and gold.

When he turned his face towards her and found the weary onset hovering about her countenance, a deep, enveloping sigh was holstered from his depths and a lingering hand invited the child with a simple, beckoning wave, resolving to get the matter over and done with. She was not the only one with some sort of frenetic wondering pulsing about their entity, and the sooner that the last party member had been indulged in the recent intrigue the better, so they could return to a sense of normalcy for a moment or two.

"So…"

Nimbly, she had crept towards his sitting form and found her own place nearby, situated a few, comfortable feet away from him. Her quiet voice had been ushered with trepidation, and finally, he had a chance to resolve it. Staring dead ahead, into the painted sky beyond the tall canopy that surrounded Eusine's impeccable household, he began the dreaded conversation.

"I've been ordered to help the Pokemon League train a future military enterprise."

He chanced a glance at the Carillon, noting that she clearly hadn't seen this sort of news coming, almost smirking at her shocked eyes and questioning look, the furrowed brows and surprised turn of her head.

"So, what does that mean?"

"That, despite my protests, I must leave our group in three weeks."

Calmly and efficiently he had delivered the news, the burdensome weight seemingly lifting from his chest. He removed his eyes from the scenery once again to look upon the teen, whose state of confusion had risen to a measure of bewilderment and obvious annoyance.

Keiko, felt a tug of fear shiver up her spine, thankfully not noticed by the Champion's hovering eyes, and though the reality hadn't quite sunk in, she intended to fight the daunting announcement, voice sharply turning into a shrill tone marked by desperation and disheartenment. A jumble of thoughts was all her brain and tongue could surmise, closely followed by a softened pleading of her hands as they made eager motions, likely in the hope that this was all a farce.

"L…leave? Did you explain to them that you couldn't possibly go there? What about our goals, our missions? What about all of us? We're…we're depending on you."

He looked away once more, not ready to face the bitter disappointment possibly parading over her face, her shrieking statement was enough of an injuring jab. Lance allowed his calm voice to continue resonating, longing for some sort of understanding from the girl. He still wanted to be around their strange gaggle of people, initially formed out of foolishness and propriety, and now subsequently continuing to stay together due to security and deep attachments, loyalties and bonds that had been fostered from the first day to the last. He had never given a thought to leave the comfort of their merry band until the arrival of the first letter, and even at that point had not wished for his departure from the group.

"I tried my best, Keiko. I can't possibly go into great detail about finding you, I have no doubt in my mind they would want to be involved and everything would turn into a mess. There are no other options."

The speech withered beside an exploding Carillon as she quickly stood from her previously seated position, for once towering over the Champion, her crossed mood ablaze, set afire by his surrender. Frustrated and at her last straw, arms akimbo and lashing out in various directions, she steeled her expression into one of loathing and contempt, of bitter rancor and ill will, directing it at the only soul left within the wide-open field.

"Since when are you so weak? Since when do you cower to anyone's will but your own?"

"Keiko-"

"No. I don't understand, Lance. Why are you so adamant on adhering to their orders? Since when do you give a damn about what anyone says? Aren't you the Champion? What could they possibly do to you if you didn't go?"

Lance, albeit a bit baffled, could only smile gently at her presumptions and strange defending of his character. He remained silent for a few moments, contemplating how to administer the entire truth of the situation, figuring with secrets already uncovered there was no point in applying prettily painted half-truths.

"What are they going to do? Strip you of your title? _Oh well, you beat all of us and now you're not listening to a word we say, so you're no longer Champion._ Please, like you wouldn't be able to defeat them all over again-"

She was no longer paying attention to him, allowing her eruption to simmer off in other directions like a scorching ember smoldering a pile of dry, hapless leaves. Chuckling quietly to himself, he raised a hand and cut off her impressions of the Pokemon League before she went too overboard in her assumptions.

"They have garnered my suspicions. I want to ensure that what I believe is going on…truly isn't."

Lance figured he would be forever astonished by her ability to change moods so quickly, from anxious, to enraged, and now pensive, wondering to himself if it was due to teenage female hormones and if she would ever grow out of it. He reminded himself that she was still just a girl – one that had seen too many things that no soul should be exposed to and many that she had not, a child that held a tendency to lack the notable maturity of a refined adult and should be expected to yield to juvenile tendencies.

She leaned down from her stance, crouching in front of him with a peculiar appearance taught about her frame, one brow arched towards her hairline.

"Wait, you think the Pokemon League is up to something?"

"Essentially, yes."

Keiko frowned, troubled by more random thoughts roaming about her head, going from one query to the next, solidifying them to the eardrums of the Champion without ceasing their upheaval.

"But, what are we supposed to do while you're gone? Do you even know how long you'll be away?"

His only answer to both questions was the startling absence of a suitable response.

"I don't know."

* * *

Sheryl made several mad dashes along the narrow hallways and corridors of the Rocket headquarters, running into several fellow members and murmuring apologies on the run. Notebook in hand, she checked her watch several times as she raced down the passageways, trying desperately to make it to her appointment with the Boss on time. She wouldn't fair so well if she couldn't even manage to arrive at a time _she_ had personally scheduled.

Hair lopsided and messy with bouncing curls scattered along the front of her face, she blew them aside as best she could and knocked on the head Rocket's door, glancing at her watch to ensure she had made it within the allotted time, albeit scarcely.

"You may enter."

The cold, hardened voice ushered her back to proper thoughts, the detailed information she had gathered from that morning seeping back to her core as her eyes roamed her neat handwriting. Opening the heavy door, she snuck in, tucking the wrought door behind her and ensuring it shut.

One look towards the Rocket leader confirmed that he was still in a sour mood, still glimmering upon his subjects like a poisonous snake, not bothered in the least at the thought of spewing his venom on their vacant corpses and devouring them whole. His indifferent eyes glared at her, urged her to speak so that he may quell any hopes and dreams she had garnered in her short youth.

"You requested to see me, Grunt. I presume it was a matter of importance?"

"Ah, yes sir. I wanted to discuss what I witnessed this morning."

"Proceed."

He didn't look at her any longer, deciding to peruse a series of papers littered across his desk, giving Sheryl an opening to mention her astute observations. Notebook paper fluttering, she looked at her quickly jotted down notes before proceeding with the calmest air and confidence she could muster. She was a bit shamed at how easily this man could shake her.

"I traveled to Ecruteak City today on the rumor that the Carillon would be there. Upon arrival, I sighted them making way to the Burnt Tower, and decided to pursue them in disguise. I found that the Carillon is very unsuspicious, while the Champion, Lance, who is apparently still traveling with them, is shielding and possessive-"

"Your information is useless. I am well aware of Lance's overprotective nature, he is the one who took her from us, or that the Carillon is a trusting dunce. I have already implemented people into that stupid girl's life, so don't think of yourself so highly as to stomp on their terrain."

As she was cut off and reprimanded, Sheryl knew she had tread on dangerous territory as the glinting eyes of her leader reached her frightened slits and a menacing smirk appeared across his lips. Backing into one of the nearby walls as he sat, unmoving, at his desk, she trembled, ensnared like a newborn fawn in the jaws of a hungry wolf.

"I know what you're trying to do. I was like you once, an unknown Grunt with rising ambitions, until I finally got what I wanted. But you – you are not going to be taking away my prize. I earned the right to stand here as leader, and you, my dear, will not be treading on these grounds."

His voice sent shivers down her spine and she thought to lunge for the door, remove herself from his presence, drown her forced pride away and never see this man again. He had seen beyond her attempts at being a useful Grunt, figured out her goals with a proficient ease, and was now punishing her for any thought of rising above him.

"I knew your father, and I realize you have the same pursuits as myself. Unfortunately, I am not in need of some little ass-kisser longing for my position."

She gulped, found she was completely incapable of speaking, and simply stood in the office, shaking and crumbling as he continued his speech, administered his punishments for even thinking of indulging in fantasies of obtaining his standing.

"You will be going to the Pokemon League headquarters and becoming part of the military that will be training there. I need some moles within the ranks, and with that, you'll be out of my hair."

Any notable surprise or disagreement floundered across her expression, her lips were too busy being pressed against one another in a stressed decorum, her eyes were too drawn to anything but his loathing features, her breath too ragged to ensue a scream of dissent.

"You are to report there in three weeks. If you do not and decide to defect, I will have your fellow Grunts hunt you down."

His words, so cold and threatening, marked an eerie promise that he would complete his goals, one way or the other. She couldn't run or hide – she had merely become his newfound prey, a chosen scapegoat for failure or negligent duties.

"Good day, Grunt."

* * *

Sleep did not come easily to Keiko that evening, fluttering about like a tempting butterfly, its flapping wings courting her cheeks but never closing her eyes to meet the slumbering world; her head too full of swirling thoughts.

She had never truly realized how dependent she was on the dragon master until he informed her of his impending departure, when panic and true fear settled in her veins. While the three men had formed a great wall of protection around her, it was easily discerned that Lance was the strongest of all of them, a great imposing figure that could slash his way through any threatening tyrant. Under his watchful eye, Keiko felt safe, secure, composed to do whatever she like. In that time frame, she had seemingly, and quite unsuitably, lost her streak of independence. Shamefully, the girl had to admit that she had hardly trained, or gained a single badge since her arrival to Eusine's hospitable mansion. Such thoughts had never occurred to her as she basked in the limelight of legends, slipping from her powerful up and coming trainer days to a silly brat who mused about trust and the unfairness of secrets.

Shifting her head across her warm pillow, the girl's eyes closed for a moment, abashed and contrite, steeling a few moments of her wandering mind to simply grace herself with disgrace at her antics. In these past few weeks, she should have been growing and getting stronger along these pristine, palace walls, not floundering and stumbling so regretfully.

Another thought pattern crossed over her mind and her eyes opened once more as the tracing notion began to unravel. What of Eusine and Morty? If Lance were gone, who would protect them as well? She didn't mean to condone their possible amount of power, but the truth remained that it would be difficult, say for the ghost gym leader, to protect both her and Eusine should a grueling battle break out. Keiko hated to doubt or underestimate their abilities, but she allowed such opinions to pique in her mind, grow and rekindle in varying waves, attempting to decipher an answer to each increasing problem.

Perhaps some minutes, or even hours later, the solution was available to her, so simple, clear and comprehensible. _She_ would become the upholding guardian, the remarkable paladin, the strong warrior of their party when Lance vacated the position. The dawning of such an idea allowed a lingering smile to touch upon her lips, and her thoughts followed through with a hasty plan. She needed to gain power for Suicune, to defeat her enemies, and protect her friends – the dragon master's eventual deviation, no matter how painful, would be her next stepping stone. With his absence, Keiko would have to attain what he was to leave behind, come out of the protective shell they had built for her and enshroud her entity with capable abilities.

Vaguely – she had half a notion as to how to do it.

* * *

Despite the lack of sleep, Keiko was her normal fiery self in the morning, sweeping down the stairs to the dining parlor with a swift step, causing the three men already gathered within the room to stare in surprise as she helped herself to some breakfast.

A grand grin played along Eusine's lips as he leaned towards Lance, a teasing tone enlightened along his voice.

"Well, she doesn't seem upset at all that you'll be leaving shortly, my dear Lance."

Before the Champion had a chance to reply at the implication that his loss was not a great one to the girl, the Carillon situated herself across from Morty, figuring that would be the safest option, and gave forth an excitable cheer to the group.

"I have an idea!"

Allowing her eyes to drift to each party member to garner their reaction, Morty and Eusine seemed incredibly curious while Lance appeared skeptical and somewhat displeased, she folded her arms neatly in front of her and began to explain.

"With Lance leaving shortly, and in the absence of his protection, I've decided that I must become, ah, a bit more suitable for my namesake. I would like to grow more powerful and, ultimately, into my proclaimed title. Perhaps Lance could train me more, or I could get out and battle others of my level…"

The three continued to stare at her, each now reassembling with their own unique countenance. Eusine seemed almost a little too excited, a large grin playing about his face, Morty thoughtful and intrigued, while Lance had managed to garner a surprised expression that was quickly turning into a wry smirk.

"I also had another idea, to perhaps…kill two Spearows with one stone. I would like to defeat Team Rocket, one gang at a time, until finally we reach the headquarters and knock them out!"

The girl's proclamation ended with a fist pump into the air, an excitement bubbling in her core, and she hoped that the others would be just as inspired, just as electrified by her notion as she was-

"That has to be the dumbest idea I've ever heard. You want to willingly walk into some Rocket headquarters? That's like asking them to capture you! Are you out of your damn mind?"

Lance's seething retort was enough to diminish any flame of enthusiasm Keiko had bestowed upon herself, turning her framed grin into a look of contempt as her brows furrowed and voice rose to high decibels, shrill and screeching.

"We'd start small! Take the smaller groups out one by one! What do you expect me to do Lance, wait for them to come and find me again? You know they're not going to give up searching for me."

"She has a point. Eventually, they'll find us. We can't hide forever."

The ghost trainer's input was appreciated wholeheartedly by the child as she stood before the group, growling in Lance's direction and attempting to look menacing.

"See? Morty agrees with me."

Leaning back into his chair, the dragon master folded his arms and snarled towards the girl, longing to get his point across. There was no need for such childish, idealistic endeavors in his eyes, where she could simply get herself and everyone else harmed by her foolish attempts to bring down some sinister organization. Would it not be better to wait the Rockets out, drawn the scoundrels near and ambush them with persevering strength?

"I still think it's a stupid thought. Chasing around smaller gangs all willy-nilly is going to catch up to you, and they'll discover who's behind the attacks on their organization."

Keiko didn't let her precious idea drown under the weight of Lance's disdain, glowering at him and sticking her nose into the air, hoping that might somehow end the argument.

"But I'll be strong enough by then. I want to defeat them."

"Like hell-"

His last statement, though hardly worse then previous ones, sent her off the deep end, causing a wild flare of her temper to seize her mind and tongue before she even process the notion, fierce, ferocious and savage, dipping into some dirty realm of fighting, crossing the line of previous arguments.

"Why does it matter to you? You're leaving!"

Only as she uttered the statement did she realize how shameful and deplorable the words were, how powerful and demeaning. The girl quickly shut her mouth afterwards, ceasing the quarrel and lowering her head in guilt, not daring to look at anyone's reaction.

* * *

Any chance of a good mood effectively spoiled, the journey to Tin Tower was made in rather daunting and awkward silence, with the usual quarreling absent, the typical combatants sitting with arms folded or walking with a restrained air of bristling aggravation. One would pout, the other would grind their teeth, insisting to not look upon one another unless provoked and goaded into it by the other members of their party.

Unfortunately for Eusine and Morty, this meant the normal, comradely travel was quite long and suffering.

The arrival to the glistening Tin Tower was a welcome distraction for all four of the trainers, allowing them to settle into some sort of cordial atmosphere for a small segment in time. In the midst of a tower built to foster friendship and hope, they were not going to break and cast aside bonds of comrades and kindred spirits. The researcher and ghost trainer could only be grateful for the tower's effectiveness.

Keiko found the Tower itself a majestic presence, for all the sacred legends, tales and representations surrounding the immortal precipice, the belfry carried its own looming, pristine coating, and the girl decided even if it wasn't associated with so many enriching myths she would still find it enchanting and alluring. Overcome with the notion of coming ever closer to the mystic enigma, she ran a few paces ahead of Eusine, Morty and Lance, eyes wide and jaw dropped, taking in each and every portion of its fantastic structure.

The tower was of a magnificent height; she could count at least eight different floors, each with its own set of glistening, immaculate bells that likely sang sweet tunes. The overhanging portions provided ample cover for those standing beneath their shaded berth, a protective fortress for those inclined to never leave the polished gates. For a moment or two, the youth pondered the view from the roof, wondering how pleasant it would be to see the entire world seemingly stretched out, lingering in hearty groves, glorious waves and vibrant streams.

Not bothering to look behind her to see if the others had caught up with her frenzied stride, the child's hand grappled for the heavy door in front of her. Upon opening the entrance, she was only greeted by drawn shadows courting the inside frame, and poking her head inward, she was taken by surprise as a large bell above her head began to ring.

All at once, the Carillon felt as though she had been transferred to another world. There was nothing else around her but the escalating peal of the bell, merrily swinging from side to side, bestowing a delightful tune that courted hearts to beat rapidly and breaths to become long and labored. She could focus on nothing but the sound, the ringing, clattering beat of the chime as though the song rang through her veins, the simple, jovial tone echoing and flowing through her body, inclined to belong there, rest and relax in the beautiful enchantment of its own melody.

The girl did not notice her fellow companions approaching, too immersed in the warm call of the tower, soaking in its petulant coaxing, urging her onward, begging her to stay, imploring her to never leave, to find her precious creature-

"Keiko…Keiko, are you all right?"

The soft speech of the researcher and a nudging hand upon her shoulder awakened her to the outside world again, brought her out of her trance and caused a rapid blinking of the eyes before she could turn to the rest of the group and nod rather dumbly.

"Ah, sorry…I felt lost for a minute there."

Their expressions contained varying waves of concern, even with Lance's slight frown and hardened eyes, and it became obvious to the girl that the bell, still ringing in all its glory, had not had the same effect on the men. Sheepishly turning away from them and back towards the entrance of the Tower, her eyes caught a form crossing over towards their misshapen group from the side of the turret.

Curious, she continued to stare as the figure advanced in a lofty, swift step, noting that it was a monk of the tower, dressed in plain robes and looking visibly irritated and disheveled. As he grew closer, the males seemed to shift their frames around her, not leaving her exposed to the looming presence of the monk as he drifted in a countenance of annoyance at their appearance.

Had he not been so obviously irked by their noteworthy gathering, Keiko thought he would hold a rather kind, but stern and serious, face. He looked worn and tired, as though he had aged far beyond his years from hard labor and stress, or perhaps not enough help around the sacred grounds. His arms were folded neatly into their long sleeves, his nostrils flared in apparent discontent at their arrival. Even addressing them, he held a candor of resentment, likely believing they were here to cause him even more grief and trouble.

"Why on earth is that bell ringing? Did you lot have something to do with this? This is not an area for your silly little games – go on, shoo!"

Eusine, ever the master of polite conversation and matters of eloquence, stepped forward from the entrance, locking his arms with Keiko's and Morty's, dragging them along with him as he glided towards the monk. It was rather obvious that the monk knew of both characters once he glimpsed upon who was in front of him, perhaps his eyesight was going as well, instantly removing his expression of irritancy.

"My good, kind Sir, we're simply here for educational purposes. Our dear young Lady hardly has the time to get out and hear of legends."

The monk flicked his scrupulous eyes from Eusine and Morty to that of Keiko, and instantly she felt exposed and judged as the man looked her up and down. Perhaps she didn't garner much attention or give off a certain air that qualified his interest, for no sooner had he glanced upon her did his eyes roam to the men, noting their fame and likely pondering what on earth some plain girl was doing with them.

If he was curious of her stature, he didn't pry with his speech, as he was more or less concerned with the meticulous pealing of the nearby bell.

"My apologies, Masters Eusine, Morty and Lance, I did not mean to presume that you had anything to do with foolishly tampering with our beloved campanile. I am curious as to how on earth the bell is ringing, however. It is a symbol of the Carillon and Suicune; it only rings when either is nearby. I wouldn't want to give any of my fellow monks false hope. Why, just the other day it rang and we were informed of the mighty dog's release…"

A grand smile played across Eusine's features as the monk rambled, snatching Keiko closer to his figure and presenting her wholeheartedly in front of the robed male with a sense of pride. The girl, already embarrassed by the proceedings and a bit flustered by the attention, grimaced and attempted to place a shy smile across her lips as the researcher began to unravel the mystery to the garbed man.

"There is a very good reason for its clamoring, kind Sir. The Lady Keiko is your beloved Carillon."

At this revelation the monk ceased all movement except swiveling his probing eyes towards the youth again in a state of surprise and disbelief, shock clearly written all over his wrinkled face. The child quivered beneath his searching expression, only daring to meet his eyes in a flaring moment of boldness, waiting for his reaction with bated breath.

"I never took you for a jester, Master Eusine."

"I do not joke with you. She was the one who released the hounds. Morty and I both saw the blessed moment."

His dark slits had still not left her own as he spoke, still sharp and studious, continuing to search for some sort of sign that Eusine was not joking with him, that this simple girl in front of him was indeed the future master of Suicune, the one spoke of in ancient mythology. He wanted to see her possession of power, view for himself that she was the soul that the legendary beast had chosen.

The monk only looked away for a moment, breaking the locked chasm between the girl and himself to address the researcher and the rest of their party, curious and fascinated, inquisitive and beseeched with a hungry yearning for resolution.

"Might I ask the three of you to vacate the premises? I must test the child to see if what you proclaim is true, and I cannot have any disturbances from outside members."

Eusine immediately withdrew from Keiko, the great grin continuing to linger on his face, and bowed deeply towards the monk, extending his arms in grand, artistic form.

"Of course. Come along Morty, Lance."

The girl reeled from the acquiescence, panic clearly drawn on her face as she watched them step away from her, separate themselves as they had been asked. Eyes widening in a sort of pleading contortion, begging not to be left alone in the foreign capsule of myths and legends, she met Lance's eyes, mouthing some sort of helpless string of words in the impending silence. Despite their quarrel earlier, he didn't seem to carry any sort of grudge, nodding in a gentle understanding of her hushed appeal, and hovered diligently several feet away, clearly not intending to leave her in the presence of a stranger.

The monk noticed the Champion's reluctance, narrowing his eyes in an imploring fashion and spoke with an air of authority and assurance towards the red-haired dragon tamer.

"You needn't worry, Master Lance. The girl shall not come to any harm."

Lance met Keiko's eyes once more and delivered some semblance of faith as she seemingly withered before him, so lost and frightened, teeming with a plague of self-doubt that appeared upon her from time to time when she became weary at the thought of not being that sacred Carillon, of disappointing everyone around her, delivering an image of her nervousness by biting her bottom lip with her teeth. A gentle smile coiled at his lips and a nod was extended from his head, hoping to reassure her as she looked back from the opened door and was escorted inside by the robed figurine.

* * *

Suddenly sick with waves of anxiety, a pattern she was growing to dislike more and more, the child followed the monk into the chambers of the first floor, eyes flickering to the candles and flaming hearth situated nearby as it struggled to keep the mighty fortress warm, trying to distract herself from any overwhelming feelings of uncertainty.

As she walked behind the garbed male, she studied her surroundings, allowing her slits to run over the tapestry-laden walls, fixated on the timeless masterpieces of art, many containing the legendary dogs in vivid hues splashing against the framework. She stopped once or twice to stare at the brilliant works, and the monk would clear his throat to gain her attention once more before proceeding into another corridor, intending for her to follow.

Keiko heard scurrying noises of worn soles scattered amongst the varying floors, passageways and rooms, hushed voices pondering over the state of the bell that was still ringing, if not more earnestly now. Beginning to wonder if she was imagining things, the monk stopped, causing the girl to nearly collide into him, stumbling a bit to cease her movements.

He gave her a rather unimpressed look before advancing into another room, motioning for her to follow, then turning away from her once again. His voice, still stern and serious, was coaxed to another form in the room.

"Sister Anise-"

The addressed female sprung up from her chair and bowed deeply to the monk, not allowing him to finish any proclamation he had longed to make before rushing off into her own, excited and frenzied.

"Brother Don! The bell! The bell is ringing! I thought to find you but was so distracted by the melody that I must have been lost in my wavering thoughts…"

The nun, a notably wide-eyed youth, then took notice of Keiko, who was still cowering behind Brother Don. Nearly bouncing in curiosity, the female quickly changed subjects before the monk could get a word in edgewise.

"My, my, who is this? I could have sworn that we didn't allow visitors, Brother Don! Is this a special occasion?"

"She is the reason I come to you now, Sister Anise. The child has been noted as the reasoning for the ringing of our sacred bell, and I wish to confirm it for myself."

There were a few gasps of excitement from the fellow woman before she spoke in an outgoing tone once more.

"You mean…she is the Carillon?"

Sister Anise painted a much friendlier version of judgment, casting inquisitive looks upon Keiko that did not resemble disdain or discontent, simply mild expressions of jubilee and eagerness.

"We can't be certain until we run the test. Child, do you possess the Clear Bell?"

"Not as of yet, Sir. I touched it about a week ago and was simply given a shock. The Director and Eusine stated I wasn't ready for it at this time."

The Carillon spoke her piece and folded her hands behind her back to refrain from fidgeting with them, watching the reaction of the monk, whom seemed to believe the instance and nodded briefly in accordance.

"It is likely better that way. We won't have any interference."

Not really understanding what he meant, the girl chose to remain silent while the nun was bustling about the room, going through several desk drawers, looking for something in an energetic glee. After she discovered what she was after, she procured the object and turned it over to Brother Don, a blooming smile still clinging to her youthful features.

"What is your name, sweet child?"

"Keiko, Sister Anise."

"What a charming calling!"

The other female apparently found everything charming, and this caused a small smile to appear along Keiko's lips, for despite all her nervousness, this woman seemed to settle her frayed confidence.

The monk, now holding the object Sister Anise had managed to find, a small silver key, directed his full attention upon his fellow parishioner, ignoring Keiko for a minute.

"Please take the child to the testing room and give her the full instructions. I shall come as soon as I grab the artifacts."

He then slipped out of the room, leaving the nun and Carillon together to do as he had ordered. With a sweet smile planted on her countenance, Sister Anise coaxed Keiko out of the room and down the hall with a warm hand on her shoulder, chatting animatedly as though she had known the girl all her life, informing her of the future proceedings.

"The test is simple, dear Keiko. Brother Don will come back with several sacred artifacts that have been in existence since the birth of the legendary dogs. You will select one, through whatever methods you deem appropriate, and if you happen to pick the one that represents Suicune, then you will be given the true title of The Carillon."

The youth's nerves began to rise once more, causing her swallow and take deep breaths, hoping to ease the anxiety that was beginning to pummel her insides. Noticing this, the nun leaned forward, whispering in a secretive manner.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you, dearie. The only one who has made the bell ring, besides Suicune, is you."

* * *

The hall they entered appeared to resemble a shrine, with long, tapered candles flickering before a large altar that held a massive portrait of Suicune running along toiling waves, and several cerulean cushions meant for kneeling, already occupied by at least a dozen occupants. The walls were a plain coating of white with silver embellishments that held more candles and scrolls full of strange writing that Keiko could not decipher for the life of her.

Keiko froze upon stepping into the doorway, almost daring to flee, wondering how so many people had heard already. The monks and nuns greeted her with lingering bows to the wooden floor, already regarding her with polite prestige. Sister Anise continued nudging her forward, where a lone cushion had been placed in the center of the floor, intending for that to be the position of the tested child.

As she her knees somehow managed to find the cushion, the girl took a few steady breaths, daring to look only ahead at the different paintings of Suicune, begging for some sort of salvation. She desperately craved the appearance of her beloved, precious comrades so that she wouldn't feel so very alone and out of place, back to her old confident self, supported and protected. It was unfortunate that they likely wouldn't even know of this ceremony as they waited outside the gates, wondering and pondering how much longer she would be within those solid walls, if she was safe, if she could pass all the ideals of the monk.

She allowed herself a few quiet moments of envisioning what they were doing at that moment in hopes of easing her frantic nerves. Lance was probably pacing, stewing about this and that, annoyed at the length of time it was taking and bothering Eusine or Morty with some sort of frustrated conversation. Eusine would possess that wise, eloquent air of his, chuckle and smile, try to ease and soothe anyone's worries, while Morty would likely remain quiet, staring off into the distance with an impassive look on his face. Keiko allotted herself another small grin to form at such thoughts, which was immediately taken away as Brother Don made his appearance.

It was eerily silent as he proceeded into the elongated room with a variety of things in his arms and kneeled before her on his own sole cushion. With a careful and delicate touch, he placed each artifact in a neatly fashioned line in front of her frame, allowing her to regale their beauty and process anything she needed to in order to make a decision.

"You may take as much time as you need, child."

Her eyes flickered to each object, all beautiful and captivating in their own light. The one closest to her resembled a large, serpentine claw, glowing in an ivory shell and catching the flames of the candles, reflecting the orange, crimson and gold hues. The furthest was an enrapturing tooth, sharp and glistening as though newly lost from a canine's maw, enticing, longing to ensnare one bold enough to touch its razor edge.

Despite the two objects' cunning, slender and dangerous curves, they did not grasp entirely, yearn for her to take them within her grasp and never let go. The one in the middle was what held her full attention, made her long for its heavenly aura. The relic, a small pearl barely an inch long or wide, sparkled in a simple, divine elegance, drove her towards it with a childish curiosity.

As her fingers neared it, reached to touch out its smooth detail, the jewel seemed to call out to her, whispered sweet nothings within her ear, coaxed her onwards, and urged her to hold it within the palm of her hand. She slipped one lone digit along its sector, marveling at the smooth surface before being pulled into its sublime grace.

In that moment, she forgot about Lance's impending departure and her own lingering self-doubt. All she felt was the pulsating desire for the object before her, as it proceeded to convey its majestic power, captivating her senseless, promising her with its immaculate grandeur that everything would be all right, a certain fondness washing over her senses like a calming force, only if she touched it…brought it to her hands-

She didn't hear the gasp from the gathered crowd as she brought it fully into her palm, caressing it like a tender newborn before holding out her flat hand to the monk with the pearl's presence nestled along her limb, presenting him her choice in a short amount of time.

As she looked up to garner the man's reaction, it was the first time she had seen a smile grace his wizened, sage-like face.

"Out of the three objects possessed by Entei, Raikou and Suicune, you have selected the first pearl cleansed by Suicune. Congratulations, Lady Keiko. You truly are the Carillon."


	14. Ardor of the Angelus

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.

My gift to you, my lovely readers – a new chapter. My apologies, it's a bit rushed and therefore may be riddled with errors, but hopefully it shall appease all of you. Happy Holidays to everyone!

* * *

_Linked, connected,  
Joined together in the throng of holy light.  
Savor the union,  
Be bound in bliss,  
For there is nothing more sorrowful,  
Than leaving it amiss._

_

* * *

_

In a past life, Eusine could have been an artful swindler or a cunning, crafty fox. His charms and persuasive, eloquent mannerisms had earned him a great many alliances, friends, companions, and hardly an enemy in sight. When he thought it necessary to employ his mastered talents, the researcher took to them with a strong, effective flair and most often came out with a suitable result. He could calculate tasks and implement forces with a brilliant ease that few could understand or had seen in person, fostering ready stratagems and tactics within the blink of an eye, the twinkle of a sparkling wink.

Before the arrival of the Carillon, the man had not put his talents to much use. Some days he would charm his way through various levels of research, get hold of a sacred document that the public was not meant to see, or dig up old secrets that someone thought long lost in the ruins of another time. But this girl, with all the group had gone through, employed the once sodden portion of his mind that could concoct and maneuver accordingly.

His thinking was not like Lance's brilliant strategies or Morty's careful patterns, but a simple, subtle, woven flare of deceit that ensured his happiness, or at present, the Carillon's.

As soon as Keiko appeared from the sublime tower, face aglow with a beaming smile and bells ringing after her (hoping she would return to their mythical chimes), he knew he had been caught. She had likely realized his plotting soon after the success of her entitlement, but didn't seem to mind the fact that she had been duped, if the massive grin was any indication.

The young girl paraded along the grounds, allowing her arms to trace the outline of the mythical air, holding her head in a more regal posture, prouder now than when she had left their sides earlier. One look towards the ragtag group of gentlemen, however, had her giggling in a sort of effortless ease, as though a huge weight had just been lifted from her chest, allowing a relaxing feeling to enter her fingers and a serene balance of emotions flicker across her face.

As she approached the gathered males, the youth placed a playful, suspicious glance upon her features, brow arched and finger pointing towards the researcher like she had just uncovered the case of the century. She even extended one digit to prod his arm in reprimand while trying to erase the grin from her lips.

"Eusine, you horrible little sneak! You did that all on purpose, didn't you?"

The researcher pretended to look absolutely horrified at her insinuation, leaping back from her accusatory touch and attempting to desperately rid his face of that Cheshire, cat who swallowed the canary, grin.

"My dear Keiko, what on earth could I have done to earn such scorn?"

All three of the other members struggled to not roll their eyes. Keiko, now shifting her smile to one of an all-knowing smirk, continued with her assertions, still tangled in the ecstasy of truly being the Carillon, caught up in the frenzy of tranquility.

"You planned all that out. You knew-"

"You must have mistaken me for some other mastermind. Only you could have passed the test."

The researcher ignored her presumptions, opting to raise his head so that his eyes were no longer level with hers, waving his hand in the air at her preceding insinuations, taking time to fondly ruffle the blonde locks on the top of her head. A glint of satisfaction lit along his blue slits, as he scanned the horizon, not bothering to look at any of his companions, simply drifting in the warm state of repose like it was a well-deserved treat.

The youth didn't buy Eusine's statement, allowing his fingers to dishevel her hair as she tried desperately to meet his eyes again and confirm her suspicions upon his character. The researcher had always held an air of mystery to her, and most of the time she couldn't see past the veils and masks of charming smiles and silver-tongued phrases to fully regard his true nature. He was not an open book like Lance; Eusine usually took the time to carefully and artfully disguise his countenance with wry grins and some other eager façades.

"But you purposefully brought us here…to make me…happy?"

He placed that masterful smile along his lips again and looked down upon the slender child, throwing away his tiny secret, though not to receive the credit, but to make her feel cared for by his observant stature.

"Everyone needs a nice little pick-me-up now and then, my dear. You looked a little down."

She followed the mystic man's eyes as they roamed towards Lance's figure by the gates, listening intently to the conversation but not placing any input within the context, opting to embrace stoic, impassive features as he delved into his own thoughts.

At the researcher's statement of her emotions, the child allowed her gaze to linger upon the Champion's own before both souls turned away from the glances, protecting themselves from looming frustrations and salvaging the remaining visages of peace and lighthearted throngs.

Eusine's observing poise had captured the tiny motions between the two, and resigned to deliver a small, inaudible sigh. All was still not well within the group, and with Lance's departure nearing, he didn't want the Champion to leave on unsuitable terms with their precious Keiko. Perhaps there was a way to make amends between the comrades…

Turning around swiftly in a state of refined elegance that ladies pine for but could never hope to achieve, the researcher clasped his hands together and drew a magnificent smirk upon his features as he addressed his fellow companions.

"How about a celebration of today's efforts, my wonderful comrades? The Kimono Dance Theatre, perhaps? My treat!"

* * *

Though Keiko had never been to the dance theatre, a suitable landmark in Ecruteak, upon entering she was certainly amazed by the array of life springing about the small lodging. While Ecruteak often displayed ruins of yesteryear and timeless, classic legends touching the fabric of the inhabitants' lives, this active hall was like a testament to indulging in whimsical delights, from sipping tea and chatting amongst the other people roaming about the lounge to watching elegant women dancing with their Pokemon upon the tiny stage.

While being dragged in by Eusine's long arms as he rushed to a spot not taken by other groups of people, Keiko carefully watched the network of life strewn about the simple wood tables and refreshing atmosphere, bestowing charming smiles as she clambered amongst those gathered in the hall.

She carefully noted ongoing business transactions between some suit-clad men and women, longing to lend an ear to the conversation to see why their faces were so stern or delighted, small children racing alongside the stage as the dancers proceeded to showcase their practiced movements, waving in their earnest entertainment at the dances being performed. Her eyes even ran to the loud, boisterous men in some of the corners as they played some kind of competitive games and sipped their sake, laughing at one another as they took turns telling stories or jesting at their friends' unfortunate follies.

After the researcher had managed to claim a table for them, the youth settled onto one of the wooden planks, attempting to ignore Lance as he sidled across from her and twisted in every direction but her own. Eusine and Morty ran off to get "refreshments", leaving them alone to stew in the awkward tension.

Upon their companions' return, the mystic man and ghost trainer shook their heads at the poignant scene of crossed arms and bodies facing opposite directions. Smirking, Eusine leaned toward the table and placed his chosen drink for Keiko on a nearby coaster, waiting for Lance's reaction as the Champion cast furtive glances towards the container.

"There you are, my dear. Enjoy!"

The child turned and smiled at the charmer, but before she could reach for the glass she found Lance's hand tugging it away from its spot and hoisting the concoction towards his nose, allowing the scent of the liquid to waft towards him while a suspicious gaze took over his face.

"Why might you be trying to serve Keiko alcohol, Eusine?"

Trying to not appear dubious, Eusine's long fingers deftly procured the beverage from the Champion's grasp and gingerly took it for himself while placing a warm mug of freshly brewed tea upon the absent coaster.

"Oh, silly me. That must be my drink. Mint tea, my Lady?"

As Keiko gratefully accepted the soothing drink, Eusine glanced from the unsuspecting child to the dragon master, who had already begun to glower at the researcher, likely doubting his innocence in any sort of matter. Bestowing a charming smile upon his lips, he put his plan in motion and prepared to escape.

"Well, looks like you two are in need of a good chat. Morty and I will be...over there."

He scurried off quickly with drink in hand, and Keiko was left to fend for herself with a grumpy Lance muttering obscenities about stupid plotting researchers under his breath.

Sighing and bringing her precious mint tea, hopefully not tainted with liquor, to her lips, the child managed to bury the hatchet for a moment and consigned to a small portion of speech.

"Thanks. I probably wouldn't have noticed until I was drunk or something."

She only received a slight grunt in reply and didn't bother to say anything more, content to watch the various people milling around them or the dancers that were performing a fair distance away. If he wanted to converse with her then she'd let _him_ begin the exchange. Perhaps she'd even allow the male to stew a bit, permit the atmosphere to reach a strained, uncomfortable edge before he imploded and she could pretend that she had won some mini-competition of wills with the Champion. Amused by this aspect of thought, a slight grin was painted on her face as she continued to place her attention on anything but the man seated behind her.

Lance, on the other hand, was not amused by the droning silence or satisfied by watching random people he didn't know or really care to know wander about the hall. He would peer at their neighbors for a few moments at a time, wonder if they were harmless or threatening, or occasionally glare at some stupid teenage male who would be caught staring at Keiko, scaring them into hysterics and smirk as they turned around in fear.

Even while keeping himself the slightest bit amused by these childish antics, he found he couldn't stand the long, drawn out silence. Usually his day was so full of her stupid, random outbursts of ideas and horrible screeches it was odd to be in the same vicinity as her and not be pummeled by every thought that entered her brain.

He decided to try glaring at the back of her head, namely to see if he could garner any reaction other than her muteness. After a few minutes of his blatant, seething gaze upon her blonde ponytail and no response from the girl, he snarled and turned away, fixating his stare on some dirt that hadn't been swept from the floor.

The Champion figured she was enjoying this intense period of silence, where she was permitting him to simmer in impatience and continuing to sip on her tea as though nothing was amiss. She was probably smirking to herself now, staring off into the distance while having a good, inaudible laugh at his expense. Out of spite and the yearning for her amusement to be banished, he finally spoke up, goading some forms of speech across his tongue towards the back of her flaxen head.

"It seems Eusine wants us to talk."

The girl almost choked into her mug as he lost the unknown competition, stifling her satisfied, smug giggle forming in the back of her throat as she managed to form a coherent sentence without glancing back his way.

"Strange. I don't have anything to discuss with you. You certainly made your opinions clear this morning."

"Well, good. They haven't changed."

Leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms, he knew he had caught her with that comment, ensnared her into joining him in one of their usual banters where he would likely come out the victor. Continuing to settle neatly into the wooden frame of his chosen seat, he smirked as she whipped around, placing her tea mug firmly on the table, quieter than she normally would in fear of causing some heads to turn at their impending argument.

Effectively provoked, the child's face turned from a lively countenance of self-satisfaction to a deepening loathing, lips dropping any form of a smirk and brows furrowed into her typical angered stance.

"What is your problem? Everyone has done so much for me…I just want to contribute. I don't want to cause extra dilemmas. If I fight against the Rockets, if I can knock them out, then that's one less thing everyone would have to deal with in the future."

Remaining in his same pose as before, the Champion snorted indignantly at the child's proclamation, still not fully convinced of her infantile plan.

"You're not strong enough. There is no reason to putting yourself or anyone else out on a limb like that. You'll only get hurt."

Creasing her forehead even further, the girl leaned forward in dubious form, placing her elbows on the table to gain a better stance.

"Why are you being so cautious lately? That's unlike you."

Amused by the accusation, Lance allowed a slight chuckle to rumble from his chest before chastising the girl for her presumptions.

"You seem to be confusing me with yourself. I'm not the one who charges blindly into things. Besides, I'm not being cautious, I'm just stating the facts. You are not strong enough to handle the Rockets on your own. It's stupid and unreasonable, and I won't be around to haul your ass out of a dungeon again."

Irritated and indignant, Keiko puffed out her small frame and folded her arms across her chest, turned her face away from his, raising it so that her nose stuck in the air. One hand went for her mint tea and her voice rang from its contents before she placed it by her lips, not even thinking about her statement, her words roaming too quickly across her tongue, running away from any filter her mind sought to form.

"You won't be able to do anything about it when you leave, you know. I can just commit to my plan and you won't be able to stop me. Morty and Eusine won't restrain me or hold me back from what I want to accomplish."

Narrowing his eyes, the male leaned forward and had the urge to yank the stupid mug from her hand and throw it across the hall. His voice took on a deep, angry edge, informing her that she was treading on dangerous ground.

"Are you kidding me, Keiko? Are you really that selfish?"

Suddenly silenced by his assertion, she swallowed tiny sips of tea and stared into space as he continued to speak; the sharpened words poised like daggers, jabbing into her body as he uttered such grated edges of speech. She couldn't take her words back as she longed to do, and was punished for her insolence.

"Those two would walk to the ends of the Earth for you. If you honestly think that they would allow you to go on alone, you need to have your brain checked."

Still without a remark from Keiko, the dragon tamer proceeded with little insistence, voice growing softer and quieter as he noted the child's reaction, figuring he had gotten his point across successfully.

"They would help you on whatever you wanted to do, including following your dumbass into danger. They would try to be of service to you no matter the cost. At the very least, don't do anything rash until I return. We can start plotting out what do to when I get back."

His final statement prompted her to speak once again, swiveling in his direction and extending a desperate tone.

"When you get back? Lance, you don't even know when that's going to happen. You could be out there for years for all we know. I want to be able to do something now – grow stronger, something, anything. I can't protect them like you can."

"Who said anything about protecting Eusine and Morty? They're there for protecting _you._"

She flickered her gaze off to some other object again, rummaging for her thoughts and trying to process them clearly so that she may effectively communicate her feelings to the Champion. Her fingers played about the resin of the mug, trying to distract her from making some stupid statement again.

"I don't want them hurt for my sake. I don't want any of you harmed any longer because of me. I'm sick of being this little glass doll. I want to be stronger. I _have_ to be stronger."

It was Lance's turn to be hushed and take in all of the information the girl unloaded, watch as she tried to express her worries and desires. His gaze softened somewhat and mind began to understand how she viewed herself, always protected by either he or the others, shuffled or prodded along according to their wishes.

"No matter what I do, I seem to be a burden. I have to be watched at all times in case some maniac Grunt wants to steal me away. I have to be protected in case some loser wants to kidnap and sell me to some other secret organization. I want to be able to fend for myself. I want to gain enough power to protect my friends and myself. I want them to be able to rely on me as much as I do on them."

He had to smile as she finished, finally seeing a slender girl that didn't just think of only herself, but of her comrades, of her token friends and companions she had gained in the short amount of time she had spent with them.

She had matured, albeit slowly, from a gangly teenager focusing on her trials and tribulations to a young adult who longed to protect those around her, yearning to step into a suitable role when Lance would have to vacate the position of guardian.

Sighing softly, he placed his chin in the palm of his hand and replied with a gentle course of words, showcasing thoughts on the subject of their companions, and perhaps, imparting his own feelings where she wouldn't suspect them.

"I know those two don't mean it as a slight to you. They watch over you because they care about you. You are not a burden by any means."

She appeared rather stunned by his turn of speaking, eyes widening at his almost soothing tone and allowing him to continue as she sipped the last of her tea.

"But I understand where you're coming from, and I'm not trying to hinder you by advising you to not go against the Rockets quite yet. I'll let you know when I think you're ready, but not now. You don't need to endanger yourself or anyone else before you're prepared for some tough battles."

The girl lowered her blue eyes for a moment and stared at a random smudge upon the table, taking in his words and sighing in comprehension and hushed acceptance. Lance chuckled again after some more pending codes of silence.

"If you'd like, I'll train you every day for the remaining time I'm here."

Raising her head quickly, she blinked rapidly and allowed a broad grin to encompass the entirety of her face. There was a shimmering excitement that embodied her countenance in such a fluid motion, and in that moment the dragon master truly believed she was ready to step up to the plate.

"Of course! I'll take you up on your offer."

"Don't get your hopes up on anything being simple. I won't go easy on you."

Her smile never fading, a hand waved in his direction to indicate her amusement and a slight giggle bubbled from her throat. She knew all too well that nothing would ever go simply with herself or Lance, especially combined.

"Oh please Lance, you never do. I wouldn't expect it."

As Lance laughed again and stood up to go obtain his own beverage and, as she handed him the mug, refill her tea, the youth quickly collected her thoughts on their long, but satisfying conversation. It was odd how easily they had settled their quandaries, once they conquered their annoyance at one another, lifting that heavy, cumbersome cloud off of each other almost flawlessly.

Observing the Champion wistfully, Keiko placed her chin within her palm and rested onto her elbow leaning across the table, pondering over the fact that she was going to truly miss his presence when he was gone. She hadn't thought about his disappearance in such a way before that particular moment, she had always filtered her mind into the dreaded feelings of fear that he would no longer be around to protect her or the others. The notion that his absence would be felt as more than a loss of a valued knight - she would be losing a precious, priceless friend, sent her into a saddened mood.

He was the one she quarreled with, he was the one she could share almost every absurd thought that crossed her mind with, he was the one who stole her away from those horrible Rockets and allowed her to trust himself, Morty and Eusine…

Her thoughts broke away as he returned to their table and offered her the refilled mug of that wonderful, soothing tea, tilting his head curiously as she seemed to awaken from her thoughts and take the proffered drink. Noticing his questioning look, she shrugged shyly and said the first thing that came to her mind.

"You know…I think I really am going to miss you."

His sudden rigid composure and silence cautioned her to not move onwards on such a topic, it was still too touchy, too soon, too open and sensitive at that point in time, a venture for the impending future that no one in the group wanted to cross. Breathing deeply and forcing an energetic smile on her face, she grinned and stood up from the table, inviting him into some involuntary fun.

"Now then, enough of this serious conversation. I want to see if we can get Eusine drunk enough to dance with the Kimono Girls."

* * *

From one of the more crowded areas within the theatre, as Eusine usually managed to garner a horde of people around him at any point in time, the other two companions watched the dragon master and Carillon finally manage to have a decent conversation. The researcher, incredibly satisfied by his handiwork gulped down some hardy mouthfuls of sake before grinning ear to ear in Morty's direction, pointing out his marvelous brilliance, as Lance and Keiko seemed to whispering like they were involved in some great conspiracy. If he felt the urge to be suspicious, the notion didn't show up along his face.

"You see, Morty? Look, they're talking! Yet another successful plan by the infamous Eusine."

There was a quiet snort from the ghost trainer as he turned away from a local man he was having an earnest conversation with, glancing towards the usual fighting duo and arching a brow at Eusine's insistence.

"You base your success on the fact that you offered Keiko alcohol and Lance was smart enough to see through it?"

The mystic man may have had the decency to be a bit ashamed of himself, but chose not to depict the emotion across his features, and instead, reclined further in his chair and winked in the direction of some ladies nearby before replying in his same confident manner.

"Well, yes…that was the first step. I had to get his protective instincts into gear. Besides, if Lance hadn't said anything, I suspect Keiko is a very chatty drunk and I could have still won in that fashion."

Morty had been friends with Eusine for quite some time, but still found it difficult to get over some of the researcher's elaborate, and often foolish, schemes. This one was working its way to the front of the line as the most absurd and ridiculous, particularly due to the potential dangerous methods of crossing alcohol with Keiko, who was usually loud and boisterous to begin with. As Eusine's typical voice of reason, he was amazed the man didn't seem to bear some sort of moral standard other than protecting his close companions, had he been nearby he certainly would have put a stop to it before the drink was even laid out on the table. The ghost trainer silently thanked Lance's shielding abilities towards the girl, before shaking his head at his friend and escaping for the time being.

"You're ridiculous. I'm walking away now."

As Eusine waved Morty off, he caught the movement of the Champion and Keiko, wandering towards his section of the hall with bright smiles and charming smirks. The researcher's overly imaginative mind began to spin and turn as they continued in their approach, drinks in hand like they were imploring to stay by his side for a few moments, at the very least. Perhaps they were coming to thank him for all of his hard work in getting them to apologize to one another and overcome their rude actions? Were they going to praise the ground he walked on for his awe-inspiring skills of plot and intrigue? They had obviously never seen his ploy coming, too caught up in their own little feud to notice his gallant defiance of such deeds. Maybe he should have tried something like this sooner, when they first began acting like spoiled little children and racing around his precious house like it was their own fighting arena, scaring all his maids half to death with their vile shrieking and unholy, juvenile tendencies. Oh, if only he had thought of it before…but now, now was not too late. He had succeeded, yes, overcome their degree of animosity towards each other…

His inner monologue ceased as the loveliness that was Keiko parted the growing crowd of gentlemen and ladies near the charmer, Lance following suit behind her lithe frame, and leaned toward him with an eager smile and hand extending a portion of her gratitude, a nice, new glass filled with glorious sake. He must have missed the twisting snicker that the Champion tried to hide.

"Eusine! Thank you so much for allowing us to have some time to ourselves to talk and get things off our chests. You have no idea how much it means to us. Here, we bought you another drink to express our generosity."

She laid the act on thick, batting her eyelashes and coyly thanking him for all of his hard work and labor, for putting up with their miserable and selfish ways, for indulging in his wonderful schemes for their favor and no one else's. She flashed him her pearly whites more than once, and with Eusine already on the verge of tipsy, he accepted the drink without a second thought. His attention was so focused on the lovely little beverage in his hand and his overwhelming triumph that he failed to notice the earnest laughter from Lance or Keiko's swift slap to the Champion's arm in attempts to smother the chuckling.

Glancing up from his cup and longing to stroke his ego a bit further, Eusine allowed a shimmering smile to pass across his lips as his charming voice continued to exude throughout the foray, glancing back and forth from Lance to Keiko as they tried to control their sniggering.

"So everything is well now? I trust you have both settled your differences with one another?"

The youth quickly slid her arm through Lance's and shoved her body closer to him, placing a deliriously fake grin on her face while the Champion turned away in fear of his chest bursting from the growing amount of stifled laughter.

"Of course! We're the best of friends now."

"Glad to hear it!"

Eusine slid a little further back into his chair, grinning all the while and sipping on his drink like he had just completed another hard day's work. He nodded to the duo before addressing the gathered throng settled around him, longing to regale them again with some fascinating story.

"Has anyone heard of the time I found out about the legendary beasts? Ohhh it's a great story…"

As he droned on and on, entertaining the guests, his vision didn't catch the seats the Champion and Carillon pulled up nearby, or that they were continuing to get up at random intervals to obtain more drinks that ended up passed into his hands, much to his delight. By the time he had finished the random tale, he was more than just a little tipsy.

Keiko used this to her advantage. Winking at Lance, she turned towards Eusine and his horde of followers, addressing the male with a sense of otherworldly curiosity.

"Eusine, I've been wondering…do you like to dance?"

The researcher's expression, already embellished by the copious amounts of alcohol floating about his system, broadened into childish glee, a giggle erupting from his throat and bubbling to the surface of the gathered sector.

"Dance? Sssuuure, I like to dance. I've been trained in the fine artsss of dance."

"Really? Well, someone told us that they didn't think you were good enough to dance with the likes of the Kimono Girls."

"Whaaaat? Blasphemy! I can easily interpret their movements and showcase the world with my own!"

Already quite inebriated, the researcher flew to his feet, stumbling about here and there, spilling a few drops of his half-gone drink, and began to make his way towards the stage, loudly. He called out to fellow customers and their charming ladies, kissing some on the hand before being ushered away from them by Lance and Keiko as they followed along, giggling all the way. They weren't out to punish the man, but perhaps, teach him a sound lesson in plotting, scheming, and to not use alcohol as a weapon of choice for such forays.

Seeing Eusine in his drunken state was enough for Keiko to remain entirely grateful for Lance's earlier act of kindness. She could only imagine herself bumbling around like an idiot, tipsy on half a glass of sake and annoying nearby patrons. Maybe she would have broken into song…

"You know…one time, I dreamt I was a monkey!"

"That's great, Eusine."

Patting the charmer and glancing around, while continuing to help the Champion shove Eusine towards the highlighted stage, the youth looked for the researcher's caretaker and voice of reason, Morty, and found him against the wall, conversing with some of the Ecruteak locals. If she could somehow manage to get by the ghost trainer without him noticing Eusine's drunken composure-

"Mortttttttyyyy!"

Despite Lance quickly shoving his hand over the researcher's mouth, it was all too late. The researcher had spotted his best friend and was now gleefully waving at him, trying to get his attention through exaggerated movements that almost left him on the ground, had the Champion not righted him several times.

Morty's keen eye washed over the scene and Keiko knew they had been caught. His quick strides led him swiftly to the trio, and Lance immediately dropped his calloused hand from Eusine's gaping mouth to feign some poorly contrived innocence.

The ghost trainer gazed at the three and barely contained his smirk. Eusine was now clutching onto his arm like some lost child, jumping up and down with a juvenile excitement bubbling through his embellished motions. Throughout the pandemonium Morty did nothing but remain perfectly calm and at ease, as though this sort of thing had happened before and would likely occur again in the future. Any sort of disapproving look was given to Lance and Keiko, who sheepishly stared at the floor in hopes of not meeting the blonde's eyes.

"What were you three up to?"

Eusine took the initiative in explaining, though his was slurred and lacking in significant details, as he lunged for Morty's other arm and grabbed hold of it like he was asking permission for a cookie.

"I was going to dance on ssstaaage. Can I go dance, Morty? Can I, can I?"

If possible, Morty's smirk grew while he nodded towards the nearby dais, granting the drunken researcher his, and likely everyone else's, fun.

"Sure. Climb right up there."

The other two companions remained visibly stunned, Keiko especially, since she didn't have the good sense to act her way through this particular situation. Her jaw appeared unhinged, dropping towards the floor as her eyes widened in shock and her mouth tried to stammer out words that didn't hold much meaning other than conveying her surprise. Lance, on the other hand, chose to simply stare at the ghost trainer in disbelief.

The blonde male shrugged, keeping a close eye on Eusine as he began to make a fool of himself beside one of the kimono girls and the gathered crowd chuckled with approval.

"He needs to learn his lesson every once in a while. I don't approve of all of his methods either."

The Champion and Carillon each held a countenance of triumph in that moment, a sense of achievement washing over them for not only a job well done, but for vengeance as well, fighting against the onslaught of Eusine's devious ways.

Morty chose to respond to their mutual gestures of success by narrowing his eyes in their direction while they swiftly turned their attention to Eusine's horrible dancing, giving forth an almost inaudible speech within the loud bellows of the neighboring crowd.

"But it seems this one still worked, hm?"

* * *

It was difficult not to laugh at Eusine, attempting to dance like his fellow stage-mates and failing miserably, giggling all the while as he received catcalls from the growing crowd. While maintaining a protective eye, ensuring that Keiko was at the base of the stage and Morty was at the front of the burdening crowd, both chuckling in amusement, the Champion allowed himself the briefest moment to think amongst the cajoled throng.

Lance had never meant to become attached to these people, the little ragtag group of dramatic fools and insightful charmers, but as he surveyed them in the amusing hysteria of the Kimono Dance Theatre, he knew he had been entrapped, ensnared and wholeheartedly devoted to each one.

He had truly not meant to even become involved in the Carillon affair, from the beginning he was just one of Eusine's companions that the researcher felt he had needed to talk to, and became intertwined within the venture by guilt and remorse. The girl had been taken, and out of responsibility and honor, he rescued her from the plague of sinister demons dressed in crimson Rs.

Somewhere along the way, he decided to stay. It wasn't in a moment of clear understanding, he never even asked Eusine if it was suitable to bunk with the rest of them in the researcher's massive home – the notion simply came to be and remained stuck there until the letters began to arrive.

Lance wasn't sure if he liked the idea of being fond of Eusine, Morty and Keiko. He wasn't one to get close to many individuals, except perhaps immediate family, like Clair. He had companions or acquaintances that he conversed with from time to time, at social gatherings or parties he would mingle politely with the rest of the throng, but he would always manage to escape having close ties with any of those people. He didn't force himself to get to know others unless they were of a great importance, perhaps the head of the Pokemon League, and could care less about indulging himself in the intimacies of strangers.

But those three had somehow maneuvered their way into his heart and mind, causing him to focus on them almost constantly. They made him unconsciously worry and fret, chuckle and smirk, yell and scream, protect and shield. They formed a taught string of silken bonds around his form, with childish smiles, winking eyes and gleaming snickers, and now, he had to somehow manage to let them go.

He knew he wouldn't be able to do it – he had already become so firmly connected to the trio that there was no possible way for him to disconnect and detach himself from them. The Champion had begun to hope for some sort of salvation from this mess, perhaps one of them would ask him not to go, beg and plead for him to stay in their little world, and he would be incapable of refusing their gesture. He could easily tell the Pokemon League to shove his title up their asses, return to the mansion and help protect his companions…

But they wouldn't. None of them, Keiko included, were that selfish. They would allow him to leave with painted faces hiding withering smiles and shed tears, would sacrifice their happiness for what they presumed was Lance's and life would try to retain a sort of normalcy without the dragon master's presence. On the flip side, he wouldn't stoop to a level of admitting he needed them either (aloud, anyway), that they had become a necessity in his life.

So for the few weeks that he still had time with them, Lance resolved to make the best of it, ignoring the pangs in his heart at the thought of wandering about without them near.

"Lance, look what that old guy gave me!"

Distracted from his thoughts, the Champion flicked his eyes from the stage to the form of Keiko now at his side, holding some sort of package and gesturing in his direction with the object. Curious, and a bit concerned that the child hadn't learned not to take things offered by strangers and pondering when she had managed to amble away from the entertainment spectacle that was Eusine, his calloused hands took hold of the strange device. He inspected the article closely before coming to a conclusion on its namesake.

"It's a Hidden Machine. Surf, I believe."

"Wow! That was nice of him."

He handed it back to the excited girl after checking it over a few times to ensure its safety, quirking a brow in the direction the supposed old man was handing out these free, and very valuable, objects.

"What'd you do to earn such a keepsake?"

The girl shrugged, placing the item in the bag nestled along her shoulders.

"I don't think I did anything notable, I just said hello when I was passing by."

The dragon master snorted at this, narrowing his eyes in speculation in various directions but not capturing the image of the elder gentleman who had granted the girl a remarkable gift.

"Strange."

Glancing up from her pack, the child allowed herself to give a little laugh, quirking a brow towards the male as his attention flew back to her.

"You don't have to be suspicious about everyone, Lance. Haven't you ever benefited from the generosity of strangers, especially when you were a younger trainer?"

Keiko tried to imagine a younger Lance for a moment, perhaps a gangly, awkward youth traveling across the world with only a Dratini for a companion, bumbling about with some infantile scowl on his face. It painted an amusing picture, and she took a moment to smile at the thought of the Champion before her having to struggle like any other newcomer, though such a fantasy probably never happened. He was likely a very astute child, properly trained by his family, the Dragon Clan, and brought up to be the best of the best.

"No. I only depended on myself and didn't go around begging for charity."

"Oh."

The girl's voice drifted off after that, as she decided to linger upon her thoughts on such a subject, realizing quite quickly that she was an outright bum next to Lance. She had always relied on other people's kindness to make it through to this part of her journey, – from nights in Pokemon Centers, Rosa's warm and loving household, and now to the outstretched arms of Eusine, Morty and Lance.

Deciding to place a small smile on her face, she gestured towards the researcher making a fool of himself and suggested that they end his amusement and return home, hoping to not touch on any more sensitive subjects.

* * *

The next morning was filled with obnoxious, irritating whining, courtesy of two individuals within the strange household. The first, Eusine, battled his hangover with shrill moaning about how his companions were evil, corrupt beings who forced him to drink an amazing amount of liquor, which really only caused Morty to raise the television's volume to a louder decibel.

The second, predictably Keiko, was found in the immense backyard of the mansion, trying to wipe the sweat from her brow and shuddering in discontent as she felt the moisture drip down her back.

Despite the cool morning air, the child was drenched and breathing heavily, body shaking as her sneakers pounded against the grass, muscles aching from overuse. As she continued to run laps along the long, sweeping grounds, there were only a few hushed tirades ushered from her mouth, notably concerning the dragon master now in the center of the large field, bullhorn in hand.

Lance hadn't been kidding about the training – for herself or her Pokemon. Eusine's backyard had once again been transformed into Lance's twisted form of an exercising arena, meaning that she and her precious monsters had to run about twenty laps around the sector. Her beasts were well ahead of her in revolutions, especially Rocky, who was having a grand time gliding across the ground and making large holes that she had tripped in several times.

The echo of the dragon tamer's voice, enhanced by the bullhorn, did nothing but further irritate the youth.

"Keiko, too slow! Move it!"

"Damn bastard. I'll shove that horn down his throat…"

Her grumbling only increased, luckily inaudible to the Champion's ears or she'd probably have to do another eight laps, as her quivering frame, not used to such an intense workout, threatened to give out on her. Glancing ahead, after shooting another well-earned glare to Lance, she noted how her Pokemon were doing quite well under the strain.

When the dragon tamer had told her of the "endurance training" she and her beasts would take part in, she had been nervous not for herself, but for them. It had been a long time since they had all gotten out and participated in any sort of rigorous activity, but there they were, happy as could be. She noticed that her Tauros, easily the best runner of the group, had finished quite a lot sooner, and was contently munching on a patch of clover. A streak of envy ran through her, which she stifled rather quickly and raced on ahead. It was a bit pathetic to be jealous of your own Pokemon's athletic abilities.

Now if only she could somehow manage to finish before dropping dead.

Several minutes later, or hours (it certainly felt that way to Keiko), the girl had finished her required laps, choosing to collapse on the spot, face first into the now warm grass and lazily drawing her limbs into various positions. A sigh of relief and an aching feeling of accomplishment washed over her as her sides heaved under the heavy strain and lack of condition, not bothering to cease even as the Champion's footsteps were heard across the waving grass. Deciding not to roll over and address him, the youth kept her expression towards the lawn, absorbing its delicate warmth before speaking to the male, whose foot prodded her lower leg in some attempt to get her up.

"I take it all back. I hate you and I intend to haunt you when I die from all of this."

The Champion chose to snort at her but say nothing, twisting his frame in other directions like he was trying to come up with a new strategy of torture for the girl. She swiveled her frame around so that the grass was now to her back, looking up at Lance and continuing to whine in her most irksome way.

"Why do _I_ have to participate in this anyway?"

Snorting once more, the male turned his attention back to her to gift her frame with some sort of disapproving look before replying nonchalantly, as though she had been incredibly numb to not think of the answer on her own.

"What if your chasing Team Rocket over a long distance? If you can't keep up with your Pokemon, what good are you to them?"

Remaining in her almost lifeless position, the child folded her arms and frowned.

"I've never been a track star, Lance."

He chuckled and maneuvered away from her, along another section of the beautiful grounds, another figure that had grown to love and blend within the surroundings of Eusine's grand fortress. As the girl curled her knees towards her chest and raised herself off the ground, she thought it was a real shame that he hardly had the time to peacefully rejoice in the splendor – there was too much to do, mostly for her, before he was to depart for a place that likely wouldn't hold this sort of wonder and majesty.

"I can tell. Now, get up. We still have to do some battle exercises. I have an idea concerning that Surf HM."

* * *

The evening came quickly, seemingly coursing over the day without warning, embracing the warm sun and heralding her back to another time and place, replacing her with the sultry moon, glowing along the walls of the mansion with an eerie glow. Incapable of slumber, despite the grueling activities of the day, the child stared out the dining room window, alone as the nearby grandfather clock struck midnight.

Another day gone, bringing them closer to that fateful hour that their beloved Champion would have to leave.

Sneaking into the fridge stockpiled with various goodies, the girl didn't hear the footsteps of another until he announced himself, a teasing grin lit upon his kind face and startling her into hitting her head on the nearby door.

"Keiko, I wouldn't expect you to be up at this hour, especially with Lance drilling you every waking moment of the day."

Flushed, the youth turned to see Morty, clad in some elegant blue robe, chuckling all the while at her. After grabbing her chosen food, a lovely container of chocolate ice cream, she shuffled around the drawers and snagged two spoons and dishes, inviting him to join her in their evident lack of slumber.

"Ah, well, I couldn't sleep."

"It appears we share the same problem."

Sitting across from each other at the long table and enjoying Keiko's selected treat, Morty raised a brow in that inquisitive, insightful manner of his that the girl tried to ignore, turning away to stare at the midnight sky hovering outside the massive windows.

"Is there a reason for your lack of sleep?"

His careful questioning, a probe to get her thoughts in order and perhaps release them from her over-stimulated mind, was enough of a gesture to warrant her voice flooding along the dining room.

"Oh, just thinking about things."

"That much is evident. You may rant and rave to me if you wish, or I could just continue to eat my ice cream in silence."

She smiled in his direction, turning her full attention on the older blonde, leaning forward to snag a bite of ice cream from her spoon and contemplating how to bring up the topic. Keiko had to be grateful for his appearance, she had long since learned that Morty was a valuable listener, capable of focusing her thoughts into sensible contortions and offering his astute advice without a qualm.

"You know, after my mother died…I didn't think I would ever be happy again. Yet, now, now I'm so content…I don't want anything or anyone to leave and ruin that bliss."

He rested his elbows on the shiny, wooden surface, procuring a few bites of his own frozen dish before inquiring further, hardly batting an eyelash at the subject matter.

"You speak about Lance, I presume?"

When all he received was a firm nod from the child, the ghost trainer continued, contributing his astute version of their favorite dragon tamer and Keiko's troubling thoughts in a simple ease.

"I've known him for quite some time. Behind that rough exterior, he has a heart of gold. He doesn't want to leave either. If any one of us asked him to stay, he would."

Lowering her head to inspect what was left of her ice cream, Keiko sullenly transcribed what they had all been thinking the past few days, whether silently or aloud to one another.

"But we won't."

Morty nodded his head in firm agreement, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back into his chair after finishing the ice cream.

"No, no we won't. There's too much pride in this group, I dare say. Besides, he has a job to do, a certain responsibility. I've never known him to back out of duty, and we shall not give him a chance to commit such an act that he would regret."

"So, instead, we're going to allow him to regret leaving us?"

All Keiko could do was frown, glancing in various other directions before swiveling back to the elder trainer's cerulean gaze as he delivered his reply.

"Oh, he would rue that regardless. But he'll come back to our little group, I assure you. There's not much that could keep him away from his friends, I expect."

Snagging the two dishes in his grasp, while Keiko protested about cleaning her own mess, Morty ended the conversation where he could, hopefully conveying the right sentiments to the child to earn her a peaceful night of sleep, away from stolen knights and wayward thoughts of staying and leaving. After depositing the bowls in the shiny sink and rinsing them off, he inclined one hand towards the child's back, ushering her towards the stairwell that led to her bedroom.

"Off you go. Get some sleep before Drill Sergeant Lance finds you in the morning."

Turning towards the ghost trainer with a sleep smile and drooping eyelids, the girl offered her gesture of appreciation, intending to cling to the notion that Lance would return to all of them one day, to savor it with a blissful ease as she crawled into bed and lay her heavy head upon the pillow.

"Thanks for listening, Morty."

He nodded politely to the girl, and then raised a hand to wave her off to a world of slumber and pleasantries.

"Anytime, Keiko. Now, shoo."

He could only hope that she could rekindle his opinions on the matter in the impending future, when Lance took to the skies and disappeared from view.


	15. Adieus

Author's Note: -blush- It's been a while, hasn't it? My apologies to any devoted readers still out there - senior year of college is stressful and time-consuming. The good news is, now that I've graduated, I should have a fair amount of time to write.

This chapter took me a long time to write, anyway. I needed it to be very heartfelt, tense, and somber as possible, because as I'm sure some of you have realized from the chapter title, the inevitable had to occur. I tried to trigger just the right emotion for each scene, and I hope they have the impacts on my faithful audiences that I hoped to convey. :3

Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Please, sit back and enjoy!

* * *

_It's never easy to say goodbye.  
There is too much to say, and so little time._

* * *

After a refreshing shower following another training regime, the child ran into the dining room occupied by the other three main inhabitants of the household, hunger gnawing away at her stomach as she greedily pawed her way through several pieces of toast. She hardly paid attention to any of the other individuals gathered, concentrating solely on her appetite, until Lance's deep voice called her to attention, despite the fact that it was not directed at her.

"Eusine, I was wondering if you would join me in a little shopping expedition. I have a few other supplies I want to pick up."

"Of course."

The single word 'shopping' clicked into the youth's head, and once swallowing some portion of food down her throat, hastily provided her own voice to the party, paying no mind to Eusine's acceptance or that she was spouting rude inclinations.

"Shopping? Where are you going – Goldenrod? Can I come? I really want to pick up a few more Super Potions and maybe a Poke Doll or two-"

"No."

Maintaining his stoic composure, the Champion turned toward Keiko with an aloof, hardened gaze, a warning that she would not be getting her way that the girl, unfortunately, did not bother to heed. Almost leaping across the table, the Carillon displayed her tenacity by pouting and whining.

"Aww, why not? I won't get in your way, I promise!"

"You should be doing something that's in accordance with your training. Why not battle Morty for your fourth badge? That will certainly be using your time wisely. Instead of sulking and moping, you can actually get something accomplished."

Wrinkling her nose, the child simply sighed and sat deeper in her seat.

* * *

As per usual, the massive Goldenrod shopping centre was surrounded by a horde of people maneuvering among the aisles of varying merchandise, from popular Poke Dolls to the array of potions one could pick at their leisure. Shuffling amongst the foray, trying desperately to not be noticed and cause some outlandish, unnecessary scene, wandered a perplexed Champion and waltzing researcher.

The latter, previously trailing behind the long strides of the former, trotted up beside the other male with a teasing smile, struggling to lean an arm along the Champion's shoulder and possibly slow him down a bit in annoyance.

"Now what did you need my assistance with, dear Lance? I've always thought you were capable of shopping by your lonesome."

Visibly distracted by the immense amount of products, the flame-haired trainer's eyes flickered briefly to the charmer before returning to a particular aisle, peering around its contents and then looking away in disgust.

"I am buying all of you gifts."

Raising his brow slightly, Eusine scoffed for a moment.

"Gifts? Whatever for?"

Still perusing the sections of the first floor, and not contributing his full attention to the conversation, Lance swerved down a particular passage, leaving Eusine to quickly catch up so that he may hear the interesting answer.

"A sort of separation present, I suppose. Something to remember me by while I'm gone."

The researcher wasn't sure how to react to such a statement. To even fathom that anyone would forget Lance, with his radiating presence, power and overprotective nature, was a foolish notion. He could never be an entity that faded into the background, he was far too overbearing and noticeable, a distinct resonance of potent strength. Knitting his brows together with as much grace as possible, Eusine snorted, drawing his lips in a firm line to show his disapproval at the idea.

"You believe we would forget you? Besides, buying _us_ parting gifts? I don't believe the one leaving bestows their tokens of affection-"

"I already bought yours, unless you would prefer me to take it back?"

Renewing his sense of charming attributes, the researcher drew his hands upwards in a sign of surrender, smirking with a delicate glee.

"Oh, of course not! I wouldn't dream of putting you through such circumstances."

With no further reply issued from Lance, the two stumbled blindly through the walkways of colorful decorum and cheer, heralded by free samples and ignoring them with only apologetic glances sent from Eusine's warm eyes. At some intervals, the Champion would lift an item from a shelf and peruse it with some great judgment, before placing it back down from the ware had previously sat, walking away with a hint of exasperation laced across his face.

After being neglected for a few minutes, the charmer marched into the side of the flame-haired male, eager to address the obvious need for support.

"So, my assistance is necessary in buying gifts?"

Lance's furrowed brow still did not disappear as he begrudgingly turned towards the researcher.

"I have purchased yours and Morty's, which leaves me only with what to get Keiko."

A great smile bloomed across Eusine's face, and instantly knew Lance would not live this down for a while. In all honesty, he was regretting inviting the irritating nerd to this charade in the first place, placing a finely furnished scowl along his face. It was clear the charmer was getting far too excited for this to be of any good to the Champion.

"And poor Lancelot has no idea what to get our young belle?"

By the sound of Eusine's voice, it seemed like he was enthralled with the notion that the Champion was _actually_ failing at something, especially one the researcher considered uncomplicated and painless.

Lance attempted to balk at his previous statement, twist it so that he didn't sound like a blithering idiot trying to find a gift for some stupid girl, planting some snide comments into his reply.

"I never said that. I just need your advice. You spoil her rotten, and I simply don't know what she needs – perhaps you do."

"Did she not say so herself this morning? Some Super Potions, a Poke Doll…"

The scowl grew only larger on the Champion's lip, drawn tight in frustration.

"I am not buying her a doll. It is not practical or useful, simply a waste of money and space. We have plenty of Potions available-"

"Well no wonder you don't have any idea on what to get her. Come on then, let's have a finer look around!"

He should have known better. In no way, shape or form was this going to be an enjoyable experience.

* * *

The soft, whispering breeze ruffled Keiko's stray, blonde tendrils as she stood directly across from the opposing flaxen-haired trainer, her visage regally set into a stoic line, hand drawn towards her Pokeball belt as though she were a partaker in the Wild West.

No matter how many times she had battled in her Pokemon trainer career, battles still made her blood rush with excitement, pulsate along her veins in a lively thrill and cause her fingertips to tingle with an intense relish, ever eager for that moment to shine in that immense world. The creatures she had captured long ago were strong, fierce and capable warriors destined to assist her in whatever the future desired, and it always caused her to swell with pride when they bared their fangs, rushed and assailed their opponents.

Battling Morty would be no different. He was a dear friend and guardian, yet, in this moment, she could only define him as another combatant, someone with the same desire as she, to see their Pokemon defeat the opposition's. She had to ignore his inquisitive, benevolent face that smiled contently at her, tilting his head in curiosity as she contemplated which beast to send out first – his presence could not sway her.

Her fingertips gently rested on a chosen Pokeball, gliding her nimble digits over its smooth surface, allowing the slightest smile to come and rest on her lips. Skillful hands grabbed onto it firmly and yanked the polished sphere from her belt, tossing it in mid-air and awaiting the telltale arrival of the selected creature.

With a great, sudden burst of light, the Quilava emerged onto the modest field, flames lined along its spine, a healthy cry bellowing from its feral larynx. A grin brimming with delight for the monster lingered on the Carillon's visage while her blue eyes strayed to Morty's area.

The opposing blonde wore a trademark poker face, allowing his digits to touch the first Pokeball on his belt, snagging it from the previous hold and tossing it into the impending fracas.

A purple, gaseous matter seemed to glide from the sphere, hovering in place before showing its comical, Cheshire features, gleaming in distinct amusement of something that no one else was aware of.

The Gastly was of no surprise to Keiko, she was well aware of Morty's type preference, but had never truly felt any inclination towards such a creature herself. Ghosts always seemed so sinister, so haunting, so aloof and strange, as though one moment they appeared for their own pleasures at your troubling circumstances, wreaking havoc along already formed trials and tribulations. The child much preferred her corporeal creatures, which rarely displayed such ominous proceedings unless provoked.

"Ready?"

The gym leader's voice brought the girl out of her thoughts, gaze focused on her with that unchanging visage. She only nodded in affirmation, pinpointing her mind on the things that Lance had taught her, on the methods she could use against her opponent.

Ghosts lacked the ability to truly physically injure another creature, but always had tricks up their sleeve. Morty would be no different. He was well aware of his beasts' capabilities, how they could wound others with trickery and deceit, how they could pull a win out from under a certain victor. She had to keep him on the defense, not allow him a moment to turn the tides from her constant barrage and assaults.

"Ember!"

Her first battle cry ushered the Quilava forward towards his chosen enemy, targeting the specter in a zigzag pattern before unleashing a lengthy line of fire from its back, rupturing the Gastly's former, devious smile. It cried out in a heightened sense of pain as the flames licked its shaded bodice, waiting its moment to strike as Keiko's beast began its retreat.

The opposition's calm, methodical voice echoed along the vast throng of the field, gaining Keiko's rapt attention.

"Gastly, Curse."

An eerie cry was emitted from the phantom as it began to visibly twist, as though the specter was injuring itself in the process of administering an attack. The striking melody was so haunting that it caused goose bumps to flare along Keiko's arms, panic to rise in her veins, the heightened sense of alarm to ring in her eardrums.

A heavy gust of ominous wind filtered against the Carillon and fellow Pokemon, forcing the girl to cover her eyes in the rushing smoke, and upon opening them once more, found nothing to be entirely amiss. Morty's flaxen features remained quietly stoic on the other side of the field, with his Gastly hovering along the skies, huffing and puffing in evident exhaustion, her Quilava snarling at her feet, eager for another attack.

But the child was well aware of the consequences of the opposition's barrage. Sneaky and stealthy, as to be expected, the gym leader had provided her an easy round in defeating his haggard Gastly, but also formed a clever plan of his own – she wouldn't risk using the flaming creature beside her much longer, not when pain was sure to follow from each one of its assaults. The cheeky foe was forcing her to come up with another strategy, and quickly. Frowning in thought, she allowed her precious beast its finale while turning her thoughts to the next sphere resting along her belt.

"Finish it off!"

No sooner had her words been uttered that the Quilava was off, bristling with flames licking its spine, a grinding pain jolting its senses from the prior, evil spell, roaring with an awe-inspiring cry towards its enemy. Sparks radiated from its scorching back, and all the Gastly could do was await its defeat, hardly putting up a fight as the embers soared towards its sights, drawing downwards to float above the grass as a lifeless gas as the assail struck.

"Ah, you fought well, old friend."

Ever the composed, the gym leader returned the comrade to its chosen Pokeball, selecting another with smooth fingers with a wry, curious smirk embossed along his face. Cool eyes strayed to the girl's now panting creature, witnessing how steadfast it fought, but how well the curse was conquering the flaming warrior.

"What will you do now, Keiko?"

* * *

The slightest glimmer of cerulean fabric caught Lance's amber eyes as he wandered through another aisle, causing him to stop and turn briefly, considering the elegant material as it draped on a lone hook, vibrant against the pale white walls of the department store. He stood still for a moment, tilting his head before proceeding closer to the finely woven mantle, placing a few calloused digits upon its simple design.

The dragon master rarely considered clothes shopping a necessary art – he often chose the same color cape, the same color pants, and possibly some different hues for shirts. But this cloak seemed to stand out in the midst of the busy store, garnering enough of his attention to consider its useful properties.

The beauty of the creation itself was exquisite, a lively radiant color of the sky at its most polished blue that reminded him briefly of the day he witnessed Suicune and the Carillon connect, searing with a delicate nobility, washed with a regal essence and finely-knit grace. It was eye-catching, but not so much as to attract unwanted attention from possible evil-doers, just enough to warrant a peaceful, pleasant presence on a daily stroll or enterprising, epic journey.

The piece was practical as well. It offered solace, a lively protection from the elements with its deep hood, long tapered sleeves and lengthy coat line, as well as a way to hide one's identity if necessary.

Unfortunately for the Champion, Eusine had caught him staring at the mantle, and managed to swiftly apprehend the flame-haired trainer as he continued to fixate his gaze on the object.

"Lance, it's perfect! She'd love it!"

Turning swiftly, the dragon tamer noticed that another was beginning to advance, likely due to the researcher's rather obnoxious outburst (and at the ability to make an easy sale). A rather portly, squat man with a twirling mustache came up behind both men and clamped them at a rapid pace on the back, chuckling to himself in a forced manner. He inclined his head and beady little eyes in Lance's direction, and inwardly the Champion groaned, glaring in Eusine's direction.

"Ah, buying a gift for your girl?"

The sales man had a loud, lingering voice that appeared to herald everyone's attention, especially if they had not yet noticed the entrance of Lance and Eusine. Girls began to coo in the background, causing the flame-haired one to blanch and cringe at not only their fangirlish screaming from the nearby aisles, but also the man's obviously ignorant questioning.

"Uh, no. She's not my _girl_."

The man shook his head sadly, as though disheartened by the notion that even the one who bested the Elite Four could not gain a lady for himself (or simply lacked the social skills in order to do so). Placing a giant grin on his face, he gestured towards the decadent blue fixture on the wall and continued to talk despite Lance's silent protests.

"But she will be once you purchase this fine garment, sir! It's an excellent wooing device, certainly! Made from the finest Flaafy wool in all of Johto, of that I am sure."

The situation seemed to only get worse when Eusine gave his rather unwanted two cents.

"It would go splendidly with her eyes!"

Grimacing, the Champion bade his feet to retreat, swinging back from the sales man and researcher, tossing his head over his shoulder as he began to walk away. Maybe he could come back later when neither one of the nuisances were around, insinuating things that weren't true and babbling on about eyes or something else as stupid.

"Forget it, I'm not buying it."

Eusine, frowning, quickly snagged the cloak off of its hook and chased after Lance, leaving the other man effectively in the dust.

Clambering to keep up with the Champion's far too long strides, the researcher reached forward enough to ensure the cloak flickered in the dragon tamer's eyes, reminding him of why he wanted to purchase it for the girl that had settled into all of their hearts.

"Come on now, I know you want to buy it for her."

With a modest silence, Lance's fingers grabbed hold of the garment and proceeded toward the nearest cash register, glaring at Eusine's evident smirk and annoying, know-it-all voice.

"It suits both of you."

The Champion didn't bother to decipher the enigmatic statement whipping along his eardrums, allowing it to settle uncomfortably in his chest as he continued onwards, head raised in a regal mannerism as though unaffected by the preceding scene. All he could do was swallow the bitterness flowing through his veins, the tart, rancor edge simmering on the edge of his vocals – because life was being unfair, taking away the only ambitions he had left.

* * *

The girl would have to surmise that Morty was more than a formidable opponent.

The gym leader's Pokemon were skilled and crafty, reeling in the world of trickery and duplicity, reminding her much more of Eusine than the flaxen-haired gentleman in front of her. Time and time again he issued commands that did not attack her beasts physically, but would render them confused, puzzled, poisoned or unconscious, decreasing their strength at a rapid pace with nothing more than a few commands of Hypnosis and Curse.

She had long since run out of Awakenings, especially against the frightening Gengar, and her Potion supply had been greatly depleted. Few options were left available, except for one she had prepared with the sly Lance, deep in the trenches of training. It was meant for a risky enterprise, if it suddenly became a necessity to entreat the particular Pokemon into the fray – it only had one move that could conquer the Ghost type floating nearby.

Drawing a long, deep breath, the Carillon reached for her last Pokeball, ushering it towards the arena for it to take part in the last feud with a giggling Haunter. As it formed along the playing field, appearing with a lengthy, brown body, horns situated along its crown, a baying cry issued from its mouth, Morty could only look on in shock and confusion.

Did she not realize that the beast, a sturdy, strong Tauros, was of the Normal type? What on earth could she do with a Pokemon that could only attack physically against his incorporeal combatants?

Then, his sharp mind realized her method quickly. He couldn't attack her directly either. His Haunter's preferred arsenal, especially Night Shade, would not have an effect on the child's chosen creature. They were suddenly locked in a stalemate, unless she had something else up her sleeves…

"Tauros, Surf!"

Her determined command brought forth the surprise notably written on Morty's features as he watched the area suddenly overrun with water, the cry of his ghost as the waves hit its billowing frame, the eager, courageous smile laced across the Carillon's face. All at once, he been ensnared by the child's clutches, her ability to bewilder, fight, and execute a finely polished plan. He could do nothing but watch her morph into a powerful being, regal grin embellishing her visage, bringing a matching one to his own as she finished off his last Pokemon.

It was almost hard to believe that this once squealing brat, with her whimsical, childish interludes and moments of self-doubt, had seemingly overcome these flaws, if only for a minute span of time. She stood in front of him like her namesake had always dictated – regal, powerful, imposing and majestic, capable of harkening glory to her inspiring entity.

Despite his loss, he could only be gleeful as she grew into an ardent warrior, only grin as she laughed and congratulated her beasts, only jovially lift her into his arms in a tight, proud embrace as she launched herself towards him in a fit of merriment.

* * *

Quietly satisfied with his purchases, the Champion and his companion sauntered through the restless halls of the department store, gliding with a purposeful stride, yearning to return to a dignified mansion with beloved characters contained within, to spend precious time in the presence of those cherished and treasured.

Distracted by the this train of thought, the flame-haired trainer did not notice the researcher's straying eyes locked onto a nearby television, subsequent halt of movement, and the dropped jaw threatening to hit the floor, until the latter heralded him from his exuberant pace.

"Lance, take a look at this."

Swinging his head around and following the waving hand gestures of the charmer, the noble knight found himself staring at the television screen, watching the news reporters flickering across the set in warm, bright colors with a disgruntled expression.

"Breaking news from Ecruteak City. As always, here's Trevor with the scoop."

The newswoman, smiling wildly at the essence of an incredible story, excitedly turned towards her fellow workers, exuberant and enthralled, to deliver some shocking reality.

"Thanks Johanna. I'm here in Ecruteak, the city of mysteries and legends, with Brother Don from the Tin Tower. Now, Brother Don, we've heard those bells in the background, not under your own power, for some time now, and there have been rumors circulating for the reasoning behind this phenomenon. Perhaps you could tell us what's really happening here?"

Memories of the past days came rushing back to both watchers, and the pits of their stomachs dropped. Ecruteak City, Brother Don, the Tin Tower, the bells excitedly clanging their vibrant peals for all the world to hear – the Carillon's acceptance into the realm of the legendary dogs, now being spelled out to the surrounding countryside.

"As most people in Ecruteak are aware, the bells within and around Tin Tower do not ring unless Suicune or the Carillon is near-"

Lance briefly glanced around him to see that a crowd, murmuring and chatting, had soon joined them, partaking in the rousing story as it haunted his senses and made him want to vomit.

"Perhaps you could tell the viewers at home, that are unaware of legends, about the Carillon?"

The Champion half-hoped that Brother Don would simply cease the infernal interview, bid the cameras away in an exasperated tone, tell them they were foolish to come and ask him witless queries that could only spell their undoing. Perhaps he could even tell a different legend entirely, lead the public astray and away from his pealing tower, anything to escape the eye of the world landing upon Keiko.

"The Carillon is the destined trainer of Suicune. Only they can release the legendary dogs, Suicune, Entei and Raikou."

"So the bell ringing certainly bears some significance. Would you mind enlightening us on the current reason?"

They could only witness everything unfold in horror, watch Brother Don's face take on an annoyed glance at the notion that he had to fully explain everything to the ignorant media, silent as the grave, pleading for nothing but the monk to hush.

"The Carillon has been found."

"What exciting news! Please tell us the name of this fortunate trainer, Brother Don!"

Lance fought to compose himself in the massive crowd. This was it. All of their careful planning, their orchestration of keeping Keiko hidden and secret from the world's greedy hands, from the sinister grip of humanity and vengeance of Rocket-garbed varmints, would be for naught – all because some stupid, pimple-faced reporter had somehow found the newest story, the beckoning call of the bells swinging in the distance.

"I will not. I don't have permission from the trainer, nor do I believe they would appreciate being bombarded by the media."

The sudden urge to hug Brother Don through the television was quickly smothered, but the Champion allowed himself the briefest smirk to flicker across his face at the reporter's disappointment.

"Oh…well, thank you Brother Don for your time and information. Back to you, Johanna."

As the report finished and people withdrew from the scene with heightened voices and inquiring gestures, the two remained, staring poignantly at the television with a sense of relief and dismay, tumbling together in a vibrant sea of emotions.

Soon after, they fled the building, flying home to that token sanctuary while it could still be heralded as such a benevolent word.

* * *

Upon arrival, the two souls were met by the other members of their team dazzled in regal smiles, entities flushed with excitement, begging for the ears of the returning duo so that they may relate their enchanting adventure, hardly noticing the uncomfortable, pondering gazes of both entrants.

The girl was the first, racing towards the Champion at a frenzied pace, struggling to not trip over a nearby stool in her hurry, painted with such a finesse of happy emotions and pride, attempting to captivate the flame-haired trainer in her rushed speech.

"Lance! I beat Morty! It was such an amazing battle! Your plan worked!"

Fighting to catch her breath, longing to tell him everything, the girl was silenced by a calloused hand lightly patting her head in worthy praise, a steady voice clearly distracted by other matters.

"Ah, congratulations. I'm not surprised."

He placed a small smile at the corner of his lips, gesturing towards Morty with his best attempt at a worthy amends for his loss. The Carillon, so attune to the surly patriot, was puzzled by the disturbed faction of thought erupting along his face, the strange appearance of eyes that seemed lost, uncertain, tired, and incapable of focusing on her victory.

Careful in her prodding, and glancing over to Eusine to witness the same sort of face written across his brow, Keiko quietly lifted her head and brought a hand towards the Champion's arm to halt his sudden movements towards a nearby chair, a worried gaze settled into her cerulean eyes.

"Is there something wrong?"

The dragon tamer had no time to respond before Eusine took the role, focusing his slits towards the ignorant child and gym leader.

"Have you watched the news recently?"

Perplexed, the blonde gentleman, settled nearby in a comfortable seat, drummed his fingers against its cloth and ventured his curiosity towards the throng.

"No…why?"

A deep sigh was expended from the Champion as he was released from Keiko's gentle grip and sat on the couch, placing an elbow on an arm and allowing a hand to cup his head, fingers rubbing against his temple in visible irritation. His calm voice ensued from his weary, fatigued frame, delving into explanation for the duo to not be left in the unknown.

"The media has caught on to Keiko's appearance. They interviewed Brother Don today at the Tin Tower, asked him why the bells rang, who you were, and any other assortment of questions that irked me to no end."

The girl swallowed and leaned forward on her feet, voice becoming hollow and shrunken, almost worried – a sensation that didn't often occur within her frame (as it was usually clouded by a form of rage), an emotion that she did not care for in the least.

"They know about me?"

He lifted his eyes to meet her own, and finally the rest of the party, appearing somber and frustrated, as though this onslaught was another perilous thing in their way, another force they would have to battle against without him being at their sides.

"Unfortunately. It's as though they timed this perfectly, with my leaving in a few days."

Now she could understand why the Champion appeared so upset and dismayed. He was another set of eyes to watch her in public, ensure her safety, and protect her with absolute power. They had already been settled into the notion that his departure was forthcoming, but to be given another reason for it to be unwanted…it simply chilled the child to the bones.

If the news was reporting, then the Rockets could be watching.

"You must be careful at all times when you are in public, Keiko. Don't talk to anyone but Eusine or Morty. Don't let your guard down, don't trust anyone else but us."

She bowed her head and listened at his overbearing speech, knowing that following his directions would be difficult, but necessary. She was a girl that was never cautious, always blindingly running into frays, towards people with such a trusting prowess, believing in humanity and opening her heart out to any soul that needed it.

She would have to alter herself even further, remove the threads of faith, assurance and belief in people from her mind, align her frame of thought away from heartfelt wishes of the greater good, because now, those very creatures may betray her in the future.

It seemed they would never be at ease.

* * *

Keiko feared she was becoming an insomniac. Her constant tossing and turning should have left her exhausted, but with a mind clouded by the burdens of the next morning – one look at the calendar and systematic notches marked over the fleeting days, the whittlings of passing time, all she received was a another flurry of dread knotting against the wall of her stomach and a growl into her pillow.

A few hours passed and found the youth staring into space, roaming over any thought that didn't wander to the departure of a particular dragon trainer. Her mind betrayed her more often than not, straying to the subject haphazardly and causing scowls and frowns to align across her face.

Inclining her head towards the direction of her nearest window, she caught the symbolic traces of the day's weather pattern, a somber, melancholy, dismal gray matter floating along the sheen of a once proud blue sky. Droplets of hollow, empty liquid plopped against the pane, cascading in a sodden set of rivulets that only served to darken her already foul mood.

"Rain. How fitting."

Glancing at the clock's crimson, digital numbers, she decided the current time warranted rising, and subsequently sighed deeply before climbing out of bed. Snagging a lilac robe draped along the back of her door, she quietly placed it over her pajamas and proceeded out of the room, inclining her head down the massive hallway to focus upon Lance's bedroom, noting its open expanse and the light coming from its sector.

Softly placing her soles on the wooden floor, flinching from its cold, lingering touch and wishing she had been smart enough to place socks on her feet, she walked lightly towards the Champion's room, tipping her head in hopes of finding him within the contents.

She had only been to his room on rare occasion, since she considered it awkward to enter the confines unless under someone else's, besides Lance, supervision, just in case he decided to murder her for stumbling into his private quarters. This train of thought had not stopped her from hiding in his closet on a more recent excursion in attempt to avoid a day of training, since it would have been the last place he would have looked for her. The end had been unfortunate for the child, as she had been found by one of the maids, and the shocked scream of the poor woman had sent the males running up the stairs to find Keiko sheepishly on the floor, who was then punished with double the amount of training.

Peeking her head into the doorway, she found the dragon tamer by a drawer full of capes, distracting her from thoughts on his evident last-minute packing and more upon marveling at how many he owned and why they were all the same color.

He must have heard her slinking down the corridor, or she had breathed too loudly at some point, because he turned his head in her direction and gave a quiet snort before swiveling back to his packing.

"You know Keiko, it's best to hide when the one you wish to conceal yourself from is not actually in the room."

Taking his speech as an invitation, she wandered into the hold of the dormitory, feasting her eyes over the sector like it was a noteworthy venue to be studied. When she had entered his quarters before it had been in a frenzied haste, and she hadn't embraced the chance to fully examine the expanse.

Where her bedroom was neatly enhanced by fineries Eusine had found all over the world, it was easy to see that the researcher had allowed the Champion to decorate his own lodgings, with plain but well-made oak furniture, fiery pictures of dragons giving chase to their enemies, posters of the Pokemon League challenge lining the walls, and a variety of rare, beautiful objects gracing the edge of his window sill.

While she would have likely been entranced by the framed artwork of the flaming reptiles or the shining faces of the Elite Four, it was the emblazoned craftsmanship of the sacred items that lured her closer, edged her forward with purpose and allowed Lance to continue to pack in much-desired silence.

Her cerulean gaze locked onto the knick-knacks, scouring the aperture's contents with an eager, peaceful smile, permitting her eyes to roam with delight at the enchanting array of collected items. Her fingertips grazed the edge of a fang that appeared to have been dipped in opal, awed at its smooth surroundings, sharpened end and sheer size, as it was roughly the length of her small hand.

She looked on in bewildered silence at the diamond-like claws and polished stones, a dragon figurine's ruby stare, transfixed into an elated state, forgetting the woes of the next few hours or where she happened to be. The girl fixated herself upon their enamored traces, wondering how vividly they would shine if the sun's appealing shimmer touched upon their furnished states-

She was interrupted from her study by Lance's voice and sullen face, both of which had pinpointed to her direction, releasing her from the preceding trance in order to fully regard his query.

"Do you prefer purple to blue?"

Stunned by the strange, ridiculous question, the girl's brows rose towards her flaxen hairline, eyes blinking once or twice and mind swirling to presume she had heard the question correctly.

"What?"

Lance's pouting eyes combed over the top of her outer garment and flew back to her face, but didn't bother relieving the girl of her astonishment or confusion. Was he asking if she liked the color of her robe, next to blue? Trying to decipher his query without sounding too confounded or perplexed, the girl turned away from his sulking gaze, because she couldn't understand for the life of her why he appeared so disappointed, and allowed her eyes to flicker over the lingering raindrops outside.

"No…ah, my favorite color is blue."

She missed his relieved expression and tried to draw herself back to his objects loitering against the dismal backdrop, but then decided quickly on supplementing her own curiosity.

"Lance, do these items ever call to you?"

It was his turn to appear baffled and puzzled, swiveling his head towards her standing form by the window, lingering over his favorite objects with a wild, inquisitive nature settled along her expression. Drawing his full attention away from packing the remnants of his bureau, he placed it upon the youth and drew his words into a doubting phrase.

"Call to me?"

Frowning and somewhat regretting the off-handed comment, Keiko decided that her statement would require an explanation and chose to make herself comfortable on the edge of Lance's bed, swinging her frame upon the already made base so that she landed along her stomach and tossed her feet in the air, allowing them swing back and forth. If it bothered the Champion, he said nothing about it.

"Yes, call to you. Like, whenever I come across an item related to Suicune, I hear bells. Ringing bells that sort of…pull me towards that object. Its how I was able to select the pearl at Tin Tower."

She placed her chin in her palms and smiled daintily, presuming that Lance fully comprehended her gift as she witnessed his expression take on a stoic edge, impassive and hardened as he turned away to resume packing.

"No, though I suppose I do not have the same sort of connection with those items as you do with the legendary dog."

Lance smirked as he swiveled back to witness her reaction, gaining some sort of amusement out of her ever-changing expressions, as she scrunched up her nose and heralded a downcast fixture along her face for his benefit.

"Oh. Well, that's a shame. They're very pretty."

Continuing to uphold his snicker and deciding to ignore her comment on his items being _pretty_ (that was certainly not the reason he had procured them in the first place – they were sacred artifacts, not little gems she could drool on), the dragon tamer allowed her the faintest glimmer of information on their current subject matter, the only particulars he had to offer.

"Strangely enough, I have heard bells on some occasions."

This caused the girl to make some sort of excited movement and almost fall off the bed, though she righted herself before Lance had the opportunity to laugh at her clumsiness. She clambered closer to him, leaning along the wooden bed frame, inclining her delighted face in his direction.

"Really? When? Maybe you have something to do with Suicune too!"

Folding his last obsidian cape, which had taken far longer with Keiko serving as a distraction, Lance frowned again, furrowing his brows slightly in anticipation of disenchanting the child. He knew he had very little to do with the circumstances of chiming peals and melodic tunes, and to believe himself involved in the old stories of legends would be a farce.

"When I was trying to locate you in the Rocket dungeons, and when Suicune appeared by that woman's farm. I doubt your theory anyway, they occurred only when you were around, so perhaps you had some sort of influence."

Taking on a thoughtful countenance and resuming the action of swinging her legs back and forth through the air, the girl tipped her head for a moment before resuming speech.

"Weird. I wonder if Eusine or Morty have heard them as well."

"If they have, they haven't bothered to mention it."

The Champion maneuvered towards the windowsill and his beloved objects with soft wrapping in hand, intending to pack them amongst his gathered clothing. His mission was thwarted when Keiko appeared in front of them, blocking him from his goal.

"Oh no, you're not going to pack them all away, are you?"

Narrowing his eyes and sighing in defeat, he slid by her and grabbed some of the razor-edged objects, presuming that she'd find a way to injure herself with them.

"Fine, fine. I'll leave you some to stare at, but I'm taking the sharp ones."

The light-hearted, bantering atmosphere was shattered with a knock on the side of the door and the appearance of a smiling maid, hands full with some of Lance's clean garments.

"Master Lance, here are the clothes you wanted washed – oh, Lady Keiko, I didn't expect you to be up so early. How are you this morning?"

There was a brief, polite exchange between the two females, a pleasant, but somewhat forced smile appeared for a moment along Keiko's lips as she struggled to not remember the date or what the maid's words conveyed. Once the courteous mannerisms had been established with the mistress of the household, the elder girl turned to the Champion once more and provided her sentiments to the impending loss of his presence.

"I just wanted to say that we're all going to miss you terribly, Master Lance."

The maid, still standing amongst the loft with her kind grin, amended her attention from the Champion to the child by his window, noting the usually content glimmer of expression disappear from her face and rekindle itself into a firm frown, knitting her brows together with other gloomy features. Her eyes lost their usual twinkle, her lips coiled tightly amongst one another, and a state of depression seemed to grasp her countenance at the reminder that the looming male would be leaving, dismissing himself from the household and flying off into the grand skies.

Slowly backing away from the door, knowing full well she had ruined the tranquil scene, the maid hastened her gaze downward, expecting some sort of reprimand for her behavior or at the very least, the merest slight from either party. Instead, she received Lance's kind words.

"Thank you, Clarice. I shall certainly miss everyone's hospitality."

Clarice curtsied once more to both individuals and took her leave shortly thereafter, bestowing a murky, sullen silence upon the duo still left in the chambers. The remaining female withdrew from the windowsill and hastened to the door of her own volition, straining to keep her countenance somewhat composed as she turned towards the Champion with perhaps the saddest smile he had ever seen.

"I'll leave you to your packing, then."

* * *

Breakfast was subdued, quiet and rank with melancholy, with not a peep uttered from the frequent talkers Keiko and Eusine, a meal full of heavy, desolate grieving in the impending notion that they would be losing one of their own within a few hours. Gone were the jovial smiles, bright grins and expressive joking, fading into the mass of promised somber interludes and dismal respites. Even with the conviction that Lance would return to their sides in due time, the weight of the fact that he was _leaving_ hung like a death sentence over the household, disjointing the common harmony, breaking it off into shattered chords of raw, tenuous silence.

Gazing up from his warm meal, the Champion's eyes swam to each individual, annoyed at their muteness, their lamenting before he had even vanquished from the scene. Clenching his jaw, he lowered his slits and chose to stare at his drink before issuing a harsh, scolding voice to his companions.

"You guys can stop acting like you're mourning."

He expected a reaction from the Carillon at the very least, perhaps pull her into some fray so that a sense of normalcy bounded off the walls of the vast dining room, so that the house didn't feel so unwelcome as they prepared their hearts to send him on his way.

But all the three did was look up from their own breakfast with visages eclipsed in shame, regret, and remorse, Keiko's eyes rapidly blinking to relieve the sudden, agonizing pressure of unshed tears, causing the Champion to sink lower in his chair. With scrutinizing, and now visibly pained perception, Lance witnessed the others steel themselves, rigidly compose their faces in the suffocating silence – Eusine took a long, deep breath and twitched a few of his fingers along the linen tablecloth, Morty bowed his head and stared at his food, and Keiko simply stared in his direction, glancing at him as though this image was the last she would have of him for a century.

Guilty at his outburst, the flame-haired trainer lowered his head and took to trying to withstand the pervading misery of the house, lungs inhaling deep breaths to reduce the tension and anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

"Sorry, Lance. I didn't think I had any reason to express joy today."

The young girl's voice permeated the air like a sharp needle, and the dragon tamer choked for a moment, shocked by her response, his tongue incapable of forming a decent reply. When had she started to sound so wise, so capable of shutting _him_ up? He almost wanted to stop this particular moment in order to marvel at the odd reversal of roles (when had he sounded so childish, when had she sounded so grown-up?), but she continued while he was left wondering.

"I presumed you would want to see our true feelings on the subject, not some fake expressions."

She glanced to Morty and Eusine, who simply bestowed sad smiles along their lips in quiet agreement, before turning her attention back to Lance, watching him as he ate the rest of his breakfast in stunned silence.

She was trying to show him she could be strong, that she could take care of everyone while he was away, that there was enough might and power within her core to fill his empty position, promising to cherish it until he returned.

Unfortunately, it just made him want to stay all the more.

* * *

The heavy rain did not cease as they all stepped outside, showering the tiny group with nothing but the distinction of certain loss. The cascading droplets, cold and unsettling, rippled along the individuals as they pined for shelter from the impending departure.

The Champion stood along the intertwining walkway of stone with luggage in hand before placing it down on the wet, pebbled surface, glancing back at the gathered standing in the doorway, shivering and forlorn, not daring to advance for fear that he would disappear in front of their eyes.

Keiko was the first to step away from the bordering steps, proceeding down the walkway with an intense air, trying to not fall apart at the seams as the tears behind her eyes began to build once more. She took one solid, deep breath, fortifying and preparing herself as her lithe frame came to stand in front of the Champion, head titled upward at his taller stance as he peered down. She attempted a smile, that still came across as doleful and miserable, before uttering her thoughts and feelings, struggling to ensure her voice would not crack.

"None of us want you to leave, but we understand you have something else to accomplish, we know you have other responsibilities."

She heard the approaching footsteps of the researcher and ghost trainer behind her, the sensation of their support reaching out to the Champion and Carillon. Easing her head downward for a moment or two to collect her thoughts, her fingertips clutching at the end of her damp sweater, the slight girl beckoned a new voice, longing to say everything she wished to express all at once, but only coming up with one suitable line.

"Just…come back to us sometime, okay?"

There was a slight chuckle from Lance's direction, and she whipped her head upwards once more, feeling somewhat hurt at his teasing expression. Here she was, laying out the rest of the team's feelings, and the jerk had the notion to laugh at her!

Noticing her wounded expression, the dragon trainer leaned down, painting his face with his usual smirking feature, desperate to convey his own meaning behind the glinting smile and warm laughter.

"There is no where else I would rather be, brat."

He finished the statement with a flick of his finger to her temple, causing her shocked face to morph into the usual siege of annoyance before stepping aside her presence and move towards Morty and Eusine, likely to give her a chance to recover prior steeled emotions.

She hardly paid attention to whatever conversations were occurring, glancing towards the dim, gray sky and the elegant architectures that adorned Eusine's vast yard, wondering what the next day held for her, and the one after that, without the flame-haired trainer in them. The Carillon almost yearned to reclaim her former self, return to being a selfish, spoiled child, beg the Champion to stay by their sides, yet, the heavy silence overwhelming her continued on, and not a sound was issued about the possibility of him lingering in their warm, familiar embraces.

There was a sudden clearing of a throat and Keiko jumped, raising her head to find a beautiful baby blue garment held in her face. Inclining her cranium further, she found the tall Champion's hands extending it towards her with a proud smile lingering across his face.

"You said you like blue, right?"

Reaching out to behold the well-made cloak, her fingers wrapped around the fabric and immediately felt flooded in its warmth. His generous offering made her misty-eyed all over again, sobbing rather inelegantly as she pressed the mantle against her face, trying to muffle the mixed balance of gleeful, elated raptures and pressing sorrow crossing over her mind in overbearing waves.

"Why, why would you get me this, I don't deserve such a treasure-"

"To remember me by."

His silly, pleased smile had her giggling through another wave of fresh tears that she didn't have any hope of stopping, though she carefully moved the cloak out of harm's way at the threat of becoming a tissue.

"What? You think we're all going to forget you when you leave? Are you an idiot?"

"I wanted to leave something of myself behind, perhaps to suffice all of you until I return."

He shrugged, glancing towards Eusine and Morty as they savored their own gifts in delight, a volume of books on legends and a new cerulean tunic respectively, leaving Keiko to ponder his statement with an air of fabricated normalcy, longing for that one last segment of teasing and taunting before it was all torn away.

"Why a cloak then? Why not a cape?"

The Champion turned back towards her and drew his preceding grin into a mocking smirk, taking the invitation for a moment of bantering and issuing it with friendly ease.

"You are hardly cool enough to pull off a cape."

* * *

As parting words ensued, emotions were a struggle to keep in check. None of the companions knew how to portray their adoration for one another without cracking, without splitting down the middle and overwhelming the scene with sorrowful monologues. None of the patriots wanted to convey that perhaps the dream was dashed, a heroic journey of clashing paladins and sinister devils shattered, for the goal would not be the same without that pivotal party member protecting the noble charge, valiantly defending his fellow conspirators, smirking in the wings as they conquered vindictive whims.

Instead, warm hugs and well wishes were extended, hopes encompassed and following the thread of the retreating Champion, whispers echoing in his ear for his safe return before he had even fled, withering looks tossed over a shoulder prepared for burdens as he climbed aboard his faithful comrade.

They all pretended to be strong, but with Lance and his beloved dragon disappearing, vanishing from sight as they were pilfered by the great distance, Keiko felt the last remnant of her steadfast armor fall apart, perish upon the ground like an old rusted fortress that had long since lost its true value. Her shield had vanished without a trace and the valorous knight had been stolen from the great battle, leaving the young girl to mold her own defense and find that bejeweled sword the protector had left behind.

* * *

_We'll miss you. _


	16. Tome of Carillon

Egads! Another chapter (and it didn't take six months :D)!

* * *

_What should we do while you're gone?  
Fester and rot?  
Move on and grow?  
Ah, but you know us better than anyone…  
Nay – we shall linger and wait in the wings,  
Until we can sprout our blooming feathers,  
And fly to you._

* * *

Keiko and company discovered, soon after Lance's departure, that no amount of hot chocolate, tea, warm fires or curled up companions all bundled together on the same couch, watching horrible cartoons, could appease the emptiness of their friend's absence. Try as they might to suffice some meaningful laughter that echoed not only in the large living room, but also in their hearts, nothing could sweep away the pervading hollow effects of one missing dragon tamer.

Pretending like he had never been there, fighting alongside them, was impossible. The Champion had been along the journey at each bend, freeing her from a deplorable dungeon, ensuring their safety, embarking on new whims at every turn, steady and dependable. He was responsible for a great part of their successes, and to try and forget him would be such a disgrace that the mere thought of it made Keiko ill. They may have physically allowed him to leave their sanctuary, but certainly not their hearts and minds.

Each ring of chuckles would extend for only a short period of time, flutter absentmindedly like a stray butterfly, before falling short of its expectations, rising only to shatter in the void that the Champion had left mere moments after. The small, remaining group could only shelter themselves in the comforts of one another, tell silly stories that didn't focus on powerful, overprotective trainers with flaming red hair, offering brief interludes of solace from the painful midst burdened upon each.

Buried between the two males, bringing one of the finer blankets towards her nose, the young Carillon offered a few sighs and short tales of her prior childhood in order to distract herself, allow for other bonds to take place amongst her comrades, for the one that she had first instated, full of juvenile diatribes and other latent immaturities, had been torn away.

Morty and Eusine did their best to entertain, listening and chortling when necessary, giving their full attention to the child as she opened herself up to past lives, despite the hurt and ache that likely filtered through their hearts and minds. She too gave them the distinction of rapt interest, imploring them to share old stories of runes uncovered or apparitions apprehended, each in turn providing necessary distractions from the sound of the heavy rain outside, and the lack of a jesting voice from a nearby sector.

Eventually, the late afternoon turned to evening, and the three fell into slumber where they were, strewn amongst the couch or the floor, found later by the maids and butlers. Each took pity for the remaining three, and some kindly awakened the masters of the household, while one butler carried the young mistress off to her own bedroom, shaking his head in dismay at their mourning, for it was a shame they had to rue and lament in the first place.

* * *

Pushing her well-worn, emerald hood away from her face, Sheryl's first sights of the Indigo Plateau were filled with awe, curiously stretching her head to the skies, where the buildings seemed inclined to touch, where trainers longed to gleam and stand. The towers appeared to be made of pure ivory, royal and majestic, unyielding and immaculate, personified to be the epitome of the Pokemon League, a symbol of everlasting power. To place one's self near the very pedestal the masters polished with their esteemed footsteps; a slight gasp left the girl's frame, her ambitions firing, her veins pulsing with a fresh, renewed energy.

The Boss had done a very foolish thing, to send her to a world that would reaffirm her pursuits, drive her to new heights, for now all she wanted to do was stand amongst the superiors, withhold that same finesse, that same might and glory.

The sound of a bugle sounded off the distance, drawing the girl's attention to a high platform proceeding out of the middle of the gathered, hardly paying heed to the enlightened chatter of her fellow brethren, new recruits to become some grand military for the League. They could be hardly bothered with or largely included in her inquisitive expression, it was only the appearance of the male upon the precipice that gave her mind a heavy jolt.

The prodigal son of the Dragon clan, the Champion, stood upon the alabaster stand, obsidian cape billowing, features radiating his supreme nature, his utmost importance, his iconic presence and entity.

The arrival of Lance, filled with excited murmurs and enthusiastic cheering from the awaiting crowd of recruits, could only cause the young Rocket's eyes to nearly pop out of her head – she certainly hadn't expected _him_ of all people to be amongst this farce.

He was visibly tired, seemingly exhausted from whatever long-winded treks his group had partaken on as of late. There was no humoristic folly to his countenance, as he had displayed in front of her some time ago in Ecruteak, there was no sign of his protective counsel, his keen eyes searching the gathered with no true interest, except perhaps to get the entire show over with as quickly as possible. His face was drawn into a tight scowl, brows furrowed and stern, his amber eyes vexed and displeased, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, cape swinging in the distance as he stood on the platform, ready to address the trainers in front of him.

It was likely no one but herself and his fellow commanders that could tell the difference in their beloved Champion. He often appeared serious, overbearing in might and attitude, cross when forced to do something he clearly wanted no part in.

But Sheryl could see his lack of regard for anyone around him, his occasional blunders in searching for three distinct individuals that would never be there, the loss of delight and amusement that had surrounded his face in Ecruteak. Without his beloved Carillon, researcher, and gym leader, he appeared changed, lost, and forlorn in his exasperated ire.

Such circumstances only intrigued the girl further. As the Champion spoke, with all the might and brawn that he was thought to possess, she continued to question this strange series of events. It was obvious that the Carillon was not in the vicinity, to openly display her presence would be a foolish act, and neither was the rest of his blissful troupe…so, why was he here? Why was the formidable, solicitous guardian away from those he clearly longed to protect? What made him flee from his precious ward?

How very interesting.

* * *

The next morning found Eusine's mansion to be quite still and listless, as though a piece of it had been cut out, only to be restored and resume its prior energy at a later date. The rain still came down from the murky skies in blank sheets, heavy droplets cascading without mercy, drenching the quiet hold as it bid not to stir.

The early dawn's misty enchantment woke the girl with that same bitter edge she had held the previous daybreak, though this time she had no other excuse but to curse it out of habit. Growling into her pillow, she felt the raw tingle of sickness down the back of her throat, and chiefly ignored the warning signs with her bull-headed, stubborn nature.

Keiko rose from her bed with an almost furtive glance in each direction, shuffling out her bedroom door with hushed footsteps, springing over the carpet and tip-toeing down the stairs, attempting to make it out the back door to the massive lawn before a maid's suspicious gaze landed her in hot water with the two remaining gentlemen.

They wouldn't want her out in the miserable weather, forcing her frame to carry on the training that the Champion had left behind. They would only worry, smother her with their concerns until she could take no more, and escape to the boundaries of the loam anyway.

As soon as she reached the porch door, swinging it noiselessly so as not to awaken or alarm anyone, she ran from the confines, out into the damp world.

Almost immediately she felt free, as though unshackled from chains of despair and regret, her legs no longer bound to the course of misery hanging over their heads, left alone to their devices as one of their own flew into the sultry air. It was in this moist, foggy atmosphere that she could vent her frustrations, cast aside her mask of unshed tears, that strong, iron demeanor, the armor that she had prepared so carefully to hide her worries and fears away from the dragon tamer, researcher, and gym leader.

She clenched her jaw in discontent as her limbs pummeled into the grass, rising and falling at a swift pace, allowing the raindrops from the sky to hit her face and intermingle with the layers of tears flowing down her cheeks as she raced further and further away from the confines of Eusine's mansion.

Why did things have to change – it was an interesting question that the Carillon had asked herself over and over again in the darkness of the evening and throughout the morning in her fitful sleep. She was sick of that never-ending reality, that the world could not remain in the same position, that at some point the ribbons of her paradise would unravel, shred their delicate casings and be restored to some other lace that she could not find comfort in.

It was as though she would never truly find that wholesome utopia, no matter how it seemed to be in reach, begging for her to grasp it firmly in both hands and not let go. It felt like there was some beast prying her fingers away from that delicately woven field of Elysium, and no matter how much she snatched and clawed, the heavenly kingdom would drift off, into another time, another world unfit for her childish eyes.

Her breathing labored, she paused momentarily in the shade of a nearby forest, eyeing the wholesome trail that Lance had her take once or twice for training. It appeared different from the times it was in the widened graces of the sun, so energetic, so full of life, harboring flying Pokemon until they lifted themselves from their favorite trees and hummed sweet songs to one another. Now it seemed so languid and spiritless, still, as though drawn into a state of hibernation, silent and observant, awaiting the moment when the clouds lifted and allowed joy back into the sorrowful plain.

Soaked to the bone, the child drew herself to the widened berth of the trees, shivering beneath their canopy, chuckling at her foolishness. There she had been, running across Eusine's great lawn, feeling sorry for herself when she had preached to Lance not long ago that she wanted to become stronger, that she wanted to thrive, protect, shield, take up his fallen sword. She found it all very ironic, how easily she could shift to her prior, weaker self, after she had proposed and boasted such idealistic promises to one of the few who believed in her. The girl was sickened by any notion of faltering, of stumbling, of falling back into that old nature.

Her laughter became louder, as though belonging to a banshee, ricocheting along the vacant forest, crazy and deluded, feverish and delirious. Struggling to take a few steps forward, the youth's world spun, dizzy and unsteady, forcing her to take refuge from a nearby tree trunk's sharpened bark, her fitful orbs hardly taking in the dance of nearby wildflowers.

The sweet resonance of tingling bells caught her attention, surrounding her in a flurry of resonating, decadent chimes and peals, pervading her entity in the resounding height of their glory, their wonderful cacophony, their captivating symphony. They enchanted and regaled her entity, pulling her out of the strange frantic, wild and hysterical laughter she had previously exuded, bringing her to a firm resolution as she stepped forward. She softly slid her feet across the forest floor like gleaming petals, smoothly roaming as the sounds coaxed, irresistible and delighting, charming, as though longing to include her in their merry games.

Allured and breathless, she made one foul movement and found her frame on the floor of the glade, soaked even more than before, head smacked against a blanket of pine needles. Irked by her carelessness, she was far too distracted to notice the vibrating whisper of the bells, the regal chimes, and the thickening fog as it enshrouded her in a fine mist, gentle and reassuring.

Yet, as she raised her head, her cerulean eyes took on a widened stance, her breath a shuddering gasp, for in front of her, standing like a mighty, noble sentinel, was the great dog, Suicune.

* * *

What Lance had feared most, his attachments to the three he had left behind, was beginning to wear on him. At the ceremony he could do nothing but search for them in the crowd, in the halls he could nothing but imagine their voices streaming through, gliding gently through the rustic eaves. Even now, as he sat at his polished, gleaming desk, with all of his necessities in an orderly fashion, he could do naught but think about their own possible actions at that very moment.

He worried, like some mother hen, kneading his temples with his calloused fingers, trying to distract himself from the notion that they no longer had him by their sides, and that they would likely wander into unnecessary danger. The Champion hoped, or prayed really, that they would have enough sense to not garner undesired threats or meander into some trap…

Oh god. This was Keiko and Eusine, with only poor Morty to fend for himself on the logical side of the world. Of course they would.

What if they had already fallen into Team Rocket's clutches? What if they were imprisoned - held against their will in another awful dungeon, to rot away until they were needed? What if they were hurt, wounded and crying out for help, with no one around to hear them?

Maybe he should call them-

As he reached for his phone in a state of paranoia (look at whose those idiots had made him become!), there was a rap at the door of his office. Half-hoping it was some pathetic soldier that he could perhaps yell at, the Champion fixed himself into a calm position and allowed his usual cool, calm voice to exude towards the closed entrance.

"You may come in."

The dragon tamer's eyes widened a bit in surprise towards the person who joined him, since the poisons master was one of the last people he expected to want his attentions. His brows inclined a scarce bit upwards, towards his disheveled crimson hair, as the impassive, rugged male marched into the office.

Lance and Koga had never been overly familiar with one another. The Champion had bested the ninja long ago, and there was not much else to go on by ways of friendship or passing glances in the halls of the Pokemon League. They likely respected each other, could shake hands at the end of the day, but would not be the comrades to tell long, parading stories about family and friends over cups of tea.

Drawing his frame back into a proud composition, the dragon tamer inclined his regal head towards his fellow member.

"Ah, Master Koga. I didn't expect you to be helping me, you were not at the opening ceremony."

"My deepest apologies, Master Lance, I was detained elsewhere."

There was always something secretive about the man; he was far too reserved, quiet, and specious, like a stream one thought shallow until they proceeded to venture into its deepening confines. Beneath his layers of hardened grit, there seemed to be endless amounts of covert, furtive operations, hidden and concealed, away from the public eye. For these reasons, Lance couldn't find himself capable of trusting the figure, like he could the open-hearted Carillon, genuine Morty, or even the sneaky Eusine (for at least his ventures were often for the good of the group).

The Champion knew he would get nowhere with an answer like "detained elsewhere", and covered up a gradual sigh exuding from his lungs, moving back towards his desk and peering at its contents as he spoke.

"No matter. I wanted to go over the strategy for training these recruits. I was thinking we could divide them amongst their types of Pokemon, and then pit them against the types weaker and stronger than that one, etc. What do you think?"

The ninja gave a firm nod in consensus, offering nothing more than what he found necessary to say.

"It seems agreeable to me. I can bring some of my pupils to instruct as well."

"Thank you, Master Koga. That would be quite helpful."

As the poisons expert turned to leave, a sudden, shrill noise took over the Champion's eardrums, a tell-tale ringing of a bell, unwavering and piercing, turning his veins to ice in worried sentiment. He rose quickly, forcefully placing his palms upon the desk as his eyes widened and voice rang out towards the fleeing Pokemon League member.

"Did you hear that?"

Koga turned, visibly curious towards the reaction of Lance, speaking in a smooth tone, as if to hush a frenzied, frantic beast.

"The lunch bell, sir? It rings everyday for the recruits at 12:00."

He was all the more curious as the Champion stood rigidly still, as if in a distraught trance, hands still driven into the desk with a greatly mustered force, shifting his head so that his gaze drew into the other male's focus.

"Are you all right, Master Lance? You don't look well."

The lunch bell, it was nothing more than the lunch bell. Allowing the notion to wash over his senses, the dragon tamer attempted to relax, his limbs feeling like jelly, his adrenaline pumping, his veins throbbing with energy.

"I'm fine. Perhaps I need to distract myself. Tell me, which way are the dorms? I'll start inspecting."

Appearing like a faithful confidant, Koga leaned back to his prior position, inclining his eyes out the nearby aperture, pretending as though he had not seen a great panic, an overwhelming tension, come over the domineering Champion.

"To the left."

Bowing and gesturing his thanks, Lance left quickly, troubled and frayed. The ninja drifted away from the door, silently posturing himself near a window, gazing down at the recruits below, at the world outstretched before them, beyond the wide, bleached towers and thoughts of glory. His voice took on a quiet, subdued tone, betraying any stoic workings of his normal patterns, lifting into the listening room with an air of sadness.

"It hurts when we can't go to the ones we care about, doesn't it, Lance?"

Glancing downwards again, catching the red hair of the Champion as he marched along the grounds, towards the dormitories in order to distract himself, his voice became thicker, choking with the subtle hints of despair, of gloom and misery.

"At the least you can take heed that yours are safe, for now."

* * *

The dormitories were various cabins built off to the side of the high-rise buildings, nestled into a quiet sector of the nearby forest, merely a simple respite for recruits from the days of training.

In truth, Lance would conduct no inspections – the march towards the dorms would only provide a distraction, allow him a moment to cool his head from prior meetings while the rest of the world settled into their pleasant atmosphere of dining.

He wandered from hall to hall, noted the clean, precisely pressed beds, the spotless floors, some silly decorations on walls that he should have marked down on a piece of paper to berate some individual about later, fixating himself on boring things that did naught to ease his troubled mind.

Only one portion of the last dorm gave him the slightest pricking of curiosity. Covering a single bed, haphazardly, was one emerald robe, thrown in a moment of frenzy and haste, as though the owner had not had much time to place it in their closet before moving on to their next big assignment.

However, it was not the mantle that had ensnared the Champion's inquisitive nature, but the edge of a book cover that it had been tossed over, like a hidden gem that no one should be able to find. The novel's edge itself was clearly disheveled, worn and faded, portraying the signs of better days but a great many fascinated reads.

In interest, Lance's hands quickly found the binding and gently pulled from underneath its captor, eyes widening in surprise as they found the cover.

Dancing in whimsical delight, a large, cyan dog graced the binding, with rhombus dapples, a diamond for a crown, and a violet cape reaching for the skies, poignantly capturing a scene the artist only could have wished for. The title, handwritten, neatly and immaculately, was not discernable from the Champions' eyes, too foreign and obscure.

As he held it carefully within his hands, Lance's heart beat swiftly in his chest, fully understanding what was contained along his palms – memories of the afternoon that the four of them had spent in the Director's office, complaining about his missing artifact, the tome that could not be read by his slits but perhaps Eusine's, the volume that could have told them everything they wished to know about their beloved Carillon…

The dragon tamer arrived at two conclusions very quickly. The first granted him the ability to abscond, with the book tucked neatly in his coat pocket, stealing away into the woods, subsequently wander back into his office and snag his phone. The second, one he reviewed on his way, was that somewhere within the confines of the Indigo Plateau lurked a being that knew far too much and that needed to be found.

* * *

Eusine's day was not going as well as he would have liked. His mansion, usually orderly, calm, and methodical, had been thrust into a state of hysteria, all due to one absent mistress.

The researcher's first train of thought, as his mind was often clouded with flairs for the dramatic, was that she had escaped into the midnight air to pursue Lance, but that notion was soon folly, as the girl would likely be back by now after being found by the Champion.

He then would have liked to believe that she was at that Rosa woman's house, but presumed that the child would have at least called him upon her arrival to calm his now agitated nerves.

After that, he really only had imaginative alternatives.

She had been kidnapped in the brink of the night by Rocket members who had found their secret hideaway, or by a band of rogue pirates –

Or maybe she was just playing a cruel, unnecessary joke on him. Keiko had always been a bit of a handful, maybe she was becoming wicked and demonic, worrying him until he fettered away like little shards of glass. What if his hair was to turn gray with her antics?

The alarming sound of a phone ringing brought him out of his reverie along the couch, causing his body to spring off the cushions in surprise, fingers shaking wildly as they clutched for the device.

His anxiety didn't get any better as he heard the voice on the other end, but nonetheless, he attempted to calm himself, develop that placid demeanor once more, try and fake his way through the conversation.

"Ah, Lance! I didn't expect your call so soon. Are you all settled in?"

Frowning, Eusine indulged Lance, listening as best he could while looking out the window at random intervals, hoping the silly girl would be wandering around the front yard and not missing at all, that he had somehow dreamt her disappearance and everything was a dandy little charade.

"You found something? What on earth are you talking about? You've only been there for a day!"

His face, previously drawn into a state of anxiety, transformed almost instantly into one of jubilee and excitement, allowing him to forget that in a short period of time he had lost the Carillon, his one track mind focused on the voice of the Champion.

"The book? Are you sure?"

There was an excited thump as he bounced back onto the couch and up again, maids looking in the living room to see what the fuss was about, likely a bit worried over their master's appearance.

"Oh my, yes, yes send it as quickly as you can. Get it out of the hands of whoever happened to have it. Already…already you have found yourself in the midst of the Rockets."

His face drew a solemn guise, changing expressions almost instantly as he quietly murmured into the listening device.

"I'm sorry, Lancelot. I wish we could be there, assisting you."

At the Champion's next query, however, his features took on the beginning nervous enterprise once more, eyes swerving in various directions and wondering if his house had been bugged by the dragon tamer, for so very attune was he to the state of the mansion and its occupants.

"Morty and Keiko? They are fine and well. Both in reasonably good spirits, as one could be with events as of late."

Noticing a maid's face peeking from the corner, the researcher questioned her with his eyes and mouth, asking a silent query as he attempted to placate the Champion.

"You want to talk to them? Ah, Morty is in Ecruteak on gym business, and Keiko…"

As his voice drifted off, for his attention had been diverted to the shaking of the maid's head and her solemn, apologetic glance, Lance had already begun to sense something amiss.

"Now now, Mother Lance, she is just fine. It appears she's out training is all."

Sighing inwardly, the researcher waved the maid off and did his best to salvage the situation – by causing the conversation's abrupt end. He didn't need Lance's suspicions to arise any further, it was likely that he would rampage over to the house in that very instant and start berating those who had lost the girl, namely, Eusine himself.

"All right, take care then. I'll let them know you called; they'll be greatly disappointed to have missed you. Don't hesitate to ring again, when you're not too busy."

Placing the phone on its receiver quickly, the charmer fled from the room, joining his servants in the continuing hunt for the silly girl.

* * *

Negating her surprise and shock, Keiko extended her fingers shyly, hesitant and bewildered, towards the magnificent beast, smiling when the nimble digits courted the smooth texture of the sapphire creature's maw, coming to rest at the slant of its powerful jaw.

At their contact, the girl was drawn away from the melancholy, withering days of departures and tears, gently coaxed into a world of bliss and rapture, of soothing waterfalls and caressing mist – her eyes soaked with the images of rivers and streams, babbling serenely in the eerie morning's glow.

She felt the great animal lean into her feather-light stroke, as though it were asking for yet another, and all the while she absorbed its divine presence, its idle tranquility, smelt the rain that drenched its pelt and tasted the elegance of the world around her, savoring the few indulgent moments she was suddenly granted.

The Carillon knew why the grand monster had come, could sense it in the beating of her heart and its own, desperately trying to calm her frantic state of mind. The creature had been conscious of her distress, arriving to assuage the unpleasant conjectures that loomed around its chosen human, brushing her with its contrived elegance, providing a regal comfort in the shadow of a mournful day. In the lacquered greenery of the timber, its sweet bells could swing and chime, singing grand symphonies and soft lullabies, the repose so deftly necessary to their precious Carillon.

As Keiko relaxed in the salvation of placid peace, her eyelids began to flicker, hovering over her matching blue slits, threatening to overwhelm the sanctity of the moment and bid her a good chance at slumber. The great dog did nothing to remedy the situation, bringing itself closer, curling its mass around her petite, lithe frame, as she succumbed to sleep.

* * *

With a tumultuous load of frustration and worry colliding upon his shoulders, the avid researcher, the fabulous charmer, wandered the halls of his mansion, fixating his visage into a composed mannerism should his servants see the warped dominion of his face and begin to fray at the edges as he did.

He poked his head into various rooms, always asking the same question, praying for a different answer.

"Have you seen Keiko?"

"No, sir. Shall I check the dining hall once more?"

"No, no, don't make yourself weary, I shall."

He had to wonder just how incompetent he had become, losing a youth in his own home.

"Where on earth is that girl?"

Out of his frustration, his hands flew to his hair and longed to rip it out, but instead of doing so, he settled upon a couch in one of the vacant guest rooms, placing his head in his hands, attempting to conjure some thought pattern that would tell him exactly where the child was. At least, now, he could understand why Lance sometimes wore that horrible look of murder on his face when Keiko disobeyed fundamental orders.

He didn't know how long he sat there, thinking and processing, yearning for some sort of absolution to free him from this silly burden, wishing the girl would merely waltz in from a nearby room and announce that she had accidentally fallen into a fit of slumber in another chamber.

However, a sudden burst of excitement, loud noises shrilly calling down the vast hallways and rooms, alerted him, bid him to swiftly change his scenic view.

"Master Eusine! Come quickly!"

He bolted, rising from the couch without a moment to spare, following the pathway of highlighted voices until he came to the dining hall, with its open windows of the back porch and maids chirping, running to peer out the apertures, blocking his sight of whatever thrilled and enlivened them so.

Clarice, an easily frightened girl, took his arm and ushered him towards the porch door, worriedly casting her looks outside, towards the contents of increasing alarm and heated whispers that would turn to grand gossip by dinner hour.

"Oh Master Eusine, you mustn't be cross with me!"

Clasping her cold hands around his warm ones, she fretfully took her teeth and nibbled on her bottom lip, much like the Carillon did when she was dreadfully consumed with some brooding anxiety. The researcher took the necessary warning in stride, allowing a calm mannerism to float over his countenance.

"Cross, why would I be cross, Clarice?"

She gestured out the aperture once more, ushering maids to move so that their master would be able to view the cause for concern, while she explained in a rushed frenzy.

"A great – a great blue dog just came in and dropped Lady Keiko on the porch!"

The last portion of the sentence was forgotten for an instant, because the simple mentioning of a cerulean canine sent the charmer's mind ablaze with excitement, so often one-tracked, derailing at this moment in the sheer exhilaration of the news.

"A great blue dog? Suicune?"

Clarice, her eyes widened in shock at his apparent animation, especially when he should be focused on their mistress, caused her to become rather irked, though she tried to hide this fact on her visage, dropping her eyes to the scene out the window.

"I haven't the slightest idea, Master Eusine, it gave me such an awful fright!"

"Why didn't you tell me before you screamed? Imagine, Suicune, here at my door!"

His imagination was hardly appeased, now flourishing at a grand scale, rampaging like a rampant waterfall, coasting with little remorse for any other thought. Suicune – the one he had researched for so long, the one connected to the Carillon –

Oh. Keiko.

The thought of the young girl finally made its way back into his cranium, and he pushed his servants aside in a flourish, gently coaxing them away from the door and into some other room, to pay no heed to whatever circumstances lay outside the mansion.

Some of his butlers, those with more sense than the housemaids, had attended to the Carillon, placing her on one of the long benches with pillows bunched beneath her flaxen head, standing over her unconscious frame with sentiments of worry cast upon each of their brows.

Eusine struggled to remember what Clarice had said – something about the dog bringing the girl here – and carefully walked forth, inclining his head cordially to those faithful servants that cared for their mistress. Composed, one of his hands reached for Keiko's cold ones, shuddering at the difference in temperature; leaning over his ward to take her in his arms.

"What news of our little, lost dame?"

One of the more outspoken servants, an older gentleman by the name of Byron, who had likely tended to Eusine as a child, delivered what information he could.

"We fear she is a bit ill, Master Eusine. The mistress has not stirred since brought here by the dog. Her head feels feverish…she must have been out here for a great while, she's quite soaked."

At Byron's reply the researcher coaxed his left hand to shift beneath the girl's blonde bangs, feeling for himself the difference in temperature only to find the butler was right, the Carillon's brow spoke of flames and sickness. Sighing deeply and adjusting the youth in his arms so that he may carry her more carefully up the pending, winding stairs to her own chambers, he bobbed his head once more towards his helpful staff, decreeing one last order before disappearing into the mansion.

"Byron, arrange for Nurse Joy."

* * *

As her lids began to flicker open, awaken from some other chosen paradise, the young girl realized the change in her environment. She was not surrounded by the warm presence of Suicune, only now closed off in heavy, down blankets and the silken sheets of her own bed. The room was much too stuffy, someone had closed the window, not allowing the cold, billowing air that Keiko often cherished inside the enclosed room, but at the very least the world was not soaking her in its petulant raindrops.

Glancing about her bedroom, her head reeled with an aching petulance, noting her prevailing sickness which the weather had likely made much worse, especially dependent on how long she had been contained with the elements (time had slipped away from her – she could certainly not recollect the passing of hours). Dark shadows traced their way over the nearly empty chamber; the moon shone through her closed binds with an immaculate diligence, and in the corner, sitting on a comfortable chair and leaning against the pristine wall, was Eusine.

It was obvious that the researcher had fallen to slumber in anger, his brow furrowed in distant ire. She was incapable of discerning if his twinkle had been lost in the ensuing frustration, that she had unknowingly caused, but could easily read that an ill temper did not suit him. The Carillon greatly preferred the sneaky, impish quality to his mouth than the frown that had settled over his lips, or the crossing of his arms over his chest in deep annoyance. He was much more of a crafty fox than a burly, maddened bear.

"Eusine?"

Shuffling herself underneath her great covers that seemed to smother her, cause her fever to escalate and sweat to cling to her brow, Keiko shifted her quiet voice toward the sleeping gentleman, gently trying to coax him out of his exhausted doze as she attempted to rise into a sitting position. Moments later, she found herself answered with a shake of his head, his arms raising the rest of his frame from against the wall, a deep yawn flooding his visage and destroying the previous forms of his face.

He blinked at her, likely trying to remember why he was in her room in the first place, confusion marking the noble countenance as he studied her in the darkness, likely taking note of her condition, the reason for his vigil.

"You are feeling better, Keiko?"

She nodded, briefly, to alleviate the sense of dizziness that threatened to overcome her if she moved too much, too quickly, and postured a question that caused a surmounting feeling of dread to pool in her stomach.

"Are you angry with me?"

The Carillon heard a loud sigh filter into the air, a shift in her chair as he brought it closer to where she sat, followed only by a calm, composed manner of speaking that relieved her of that preceding burden.

"I was earlier, but that seems to have dissipated. Do you realize the reason I was cross?"

She should have presumed he was not one to remain vexed for long periods of time, it was not in his personality to be infuriated or enraged, holding grudges against those who had wronged him, livid and bestowing punishments upon those who invoked his wrath. Someone in her stature, an individual he cared and felt responsible for, was less likely to ever feel his harsh judgment.

But she knew that she had been wrong in her morning escape, she understood very well why he had been annoyed.

"Because I ran out this morning…and you didn't know where I was?"

"Precisely. Keiko, I realize you are no longer a child, but can't you give one of us the notice of your departure if you wish to do something?"

The youth's rapidly spreading blush revealed her sheepish thoughts on her behavior, how foolish everything would sound once it sprouted from her mouth, and perhaps how badly she did not want to tread on the reasoning behind that diligent training she and the dragon master had conspired.

"Ah, I would have done so, had I not felt ill. I assumed you would have immediately sent me back to my room in order to get better-"

Eusine, now fully animated in amusement, quirked a brow towards his hairline, intending to ensnare and trap the girl in her explanations, dig deeper into her morning run.

"Is such a recommendation a wrong thing?"

Looking down at her bedspread, Keiko began to play with the patterns, attempting to sway away from half-truths, realizing that the mystic man would recognize her trials at deceit.

"No, I just wanted to train."

"Training couldn't have waited until you were well?"

"I didn't want to wait, I've been training so that I can protect everyone and-"

Oh, foolish girl, witless child! It had slipped momentarily from her mouth, one clamored in feverish delirium, spread across the room in a furious frenzy, exuding its core near the researcher's eardrums, polished in some clear decorum of thoughtlessness that only an imprudent creature could not materialize.

She lifted her head in time to see both of his eyes widen and his smile narrow to a mischievous delight, for he wasn't disappointed in her notion that she needed to take care of their troupe, only amused by the fact that he had found the cause for the silly tribulations, that he had strung her up from a tree for mere minutes and received the answer he was looking for. Perhaps it wasn't fair, the girl was sick and all, but the researcher could easily shrug off the notion and continue in his questioning.

"Aha, so there lies the real reason. To protect everyone? Including Morty and myself? When did this presumption come about?"

He leaned forward in his chair now, smiling all the while in that fox-like way that made Keiko cringe – how easily she had been duped, how wily and cunning he was – why on earth did she ever think to hold something secretive from him?

There was a deepening sigh from her lungs, followed by a short cough, before she proceeded.

"I discussed it with Lance, before he left…"

A smirk became further embellished on the charmer's lips at the sound of the Champion's name, and he snorted with an almost childlike amusement.

"Of course, I should have known he had a hand in it. But my dear, don't you realize Morty and I are here to protect _you?_ What would make you believe that you suddenly had to become responsible for us?"

"I…I don't know. I just felt that with pending trips to Rocket quarters…you would all be…oh, forget it."

Her attempts to answer the query in a round about manner failed her as she fumbled for words in her feverish expanse, drawing her frame upright as rigidly as possible, focused heavily on her down cover and not the researcher's visage.

"Trouble. I thought you would be in trouble, and I didn't want any of you to come to harm because of me and my goals."

His voice became a bit gentler, no longer insisting on prying, for he had received all the information he could ever need from the youth, and he placed a warm hand on the top of her flaxen mane, patting her cranium kindly in effort to soothe her ruffled feathers.

"Harm? To us? Do you think Morty and I to be weak, my silly Keiko?"

He knew she had not meant to insinuate that either one of the remaining males were delicate or fragile, incapable of saving themselves should they land in hot water, it was the Carillon's way of treating her brethren with respect and benevolence, to presume they needed her support, care, and protection.

Perhaps Eusine should have been flattered, long ago he knew Keiko would never have thought to be so shielding and defensive towards any of them, if anything, it was more than likely she would have left them to rot in some trap just so she would be left alone from their meddling.

The girl still said nothing though, seemingly stupefied into silence, her large, round eyes glancing at him every now and again, awaiting the lecture that was surmounting over her head.

He smirked again, leaning back into his chair to gain a more comfortable access, crossing his arms and composing his speech.

"Perhaps I do not demonstrate a heightened sense of power, but there is more to this world than mere brawn. Where would you be without my finesse, my charm, my connections in this society?"

She was abashed and ashamed again, lowering her head in dismay, incapable of replying to the question intelligently, for in truth, she would be nowhere.

"Aha, you have no answer, because you cannot arrive at anything agreeable. To be sure, I am necessary in our plight, little bell. Think nothing of my perils or safety, should I become the one in distress, you shall be sure I will see myself out of it."

The researcher chuckled and moved to ruffle her hair, as he often did to put her at ease, before snickering to himself like the Cheshire cat, incapable of ceasing his teasing.

"There was something I wanted to tell you earlier, oh what was it…"

He pretended to trail off, placing several fingers underneath his chin to feign the thinking process, while the Carillon's slits widened and she waited with bated breath, tormenting the child until it seemed she would burst.

"Oh, right. Lance called today."

As he predicted, the femme practically leapt from her sitting position beneath her cumbersome blankets, her mouth open in surprise and excitement, visage warping from previous entanglements of shame to enthralled facets, stirred and electrified, roused from despair at the sole word of her Champion.

"Lance called?!"

Eusine nodded in affirmation, greatly amused by the proceedings, enlightened to tease her further as some sort of fitting punishment, that she had missed their beloved dragon tamer's call.

"That he did. He wanted to talk to you, but it seemed you were out in the rain, getting sick and running around doing some sort of training…"

Frowning at his jest, the youth snorted, rolling her eyes at the researcher's antics, no longer playing into his snares, ploys, and tricks.

"Oh, enough! What did he say? Is he okay?"

"He is as perfectly well as Lance could be, you know, with his typical brooding, surly, overprotective self. He did inquire about your condition, and since I didn't know where you were at the time, I had to lie to him. Alas, look at the position you put me in, Keiko. You know how much I hate to deceive others."

Furnished with dramatic skill, the charmer placed his hand over his heart as though wounded by his past actions committed against Lance, visage coined in a farce act of despair.

Knowing the researcher all too well by now, the girl did not buy his acting.

"I'm already quite ill with guilt, you miserable wretch, how much more do you wish to wound me? What else did he say?"

Returning to a more serious composure, eyes twinkling with their usual, playful glint, Eusine managed to garner her curiosity once more, gliding into the token information he had been given some hours ago.

"Apparently he found a book, which he presumes is the very one stolen from the Director."

There was an audible gasp emitted from the child, and then a flurry of questions.

"The book? How on earth did he get it? Someone must have stolen it from the Director! Does he know whom? Are they part of Team Rocket? Did he get them arrested? Do you think he can come back home now?"

"Goodness, my dear, calm yourself. He didn't say, and no, he cannot possibly come home, you know better than to get your hopes up like that."

Scowling a bit at the last portion of his sentence that he had to utter, knowing well the child would be disappointed, he chose to focus his eyes elsewhere as he described the predicted actions of the next day.

"We shall likely receive the book in the mail tomorrow, he promised it would be delivered as quickly as possible."

He turned his slits back to the girl to see her waiting for a moment to stammer, but effectively ruined whatever speech she was trying to prepare in her feverish delight.

"Ah, say nothing. I will let you look at it once I have perused the contents, it may take some time to translate the language."

Pausing, he rose from his chair, moving it back to its proper place in her bedroom before advancing towards the girl's doorway, turning back to address the youth, clearly wide awake after the prior proceedings.

"Now then, with all this information thrust upon you, you need to get some rest. I believe you're still recovering from this flu business, hm?"

He winked, before gathering a resolute affirmation on the tip of his tongue, allowing it to glide towards Keiko, smiling all the while.

"And don't think you've gotten off easy – there is still the notion of Suicune that we need to discuss. Don't believe for a moment that I shall forget its arrival upon my porch, maids shrieking about you enclosed in its great jaw."

There was a lingering sigh from the Carillon, and she subsequently curled herself beneath her blankets once more, shifting to a comfortable slumbering position, feigning a sleepy smile, for both knew they would be awake for a long while, thinking and processing the events of the day.

"Fine. Pleasant dreams then, Eusine."

"Pleasant dreams, Keiko."

* * *

The next morning drifted by in a sweeping matter of hours, especially when Eusine chose to devote his time in his office, reading light swept over his polished, wooden desk, legendary book, having arrived by Pidgeot at dawn, resting, as he took careful notes in his translations. So focused on his task, he had scarcely noticed Morty's appearance until there was a knock on the secluded door.

Turning around abruptly, the researcher swept his reading glasses off his face, smiling with a great poise in the gym leader's direction, excitement bounding off of his frame.

"Ah, Morty! Come, you've arrived just in time! I have such great news!"

Smirking, the blonde leaned against the doorway, folding his arms across his chest in the foreboding of great amusement.

"I believe Keiko has already told me."

Confusion ensnared the charmer's features, his blue eyes looking at his fellow companion with nothing short of wonder. How on earth had the child been able to tell Morty already? She was supposed to be in her room, safe, secure and mending from her ailment.

"What? How?"

Trying to maintain composed, inwardly chuckling with warm laughter, the gym leader explained.

"It seems she saw me coming up the drive, she was practically hanging out her window."

Eusine pouted, unimpressed with Keiko's antics as of late. It just figured that she would cause him a great deal of trials and tribulations, only to cause more at a later junction, when he had been so enthralled to tell of his latest quest.

"Troublesome child, ruining my surprise."

"I have a feeling that was the point of it."

Continuing to frown, the researcher turned away from the blonde, fixated on the book in hand and managing to come up with a way to diminish the child in her plot to destroy his fun.

"Hmph. Did she tell you of her little escapade?"

"Ah, I believe I got the bare minimum of notes."

Snorting, Eusine dusted off the tome, rising from the secretaire and crossing the threshold of his office, pausing to enact the last bits of conversation with Morty before finding Keiko.

"Figures. Regardless, I have now translated some portion of the text. The legend is extraordinary, I didn't mind reading it for the hundredth time."

He bowed out, promising to listen to Morty at a later junction, after he had delivered on his promise. There was much more to tell the gym leader than their demon had likely let on, including the appearance of her legendary dog, a mystery that still captivated him, still enraptured his thoughts at any interval of daydreaming.

"I'll be gone for a moment, I promised the imp I would allow her to read it if she stayed in her room and got better."

* * *

As he peered in the contents of Keiko's room, he thought to laugh at her acting, the curled form of her frame turned away from him, likely to hide her snicker, pretending to be slumbering quietly, not disturbing anyone or anything. He noted the open window, and its great gusts of wind billowing in with the cold, autumn air, the tray of tea, likely brought in recently from a favorite maid, with its cinnamon steam rising and teasing him with a delicious candor. Marching in without a knock, and rolling his eyes at the display, the charmer made do, announcing his presence with candid disregard for her scene.

"Cease the feigning of sleep, monster, I know you've been awake and destroying my surprises."

"Oh, so I've been caught?"

She rolled over, snagging the mug of tea in her hands before Eusine could think to grab it for himself, leaning against a headboard of fluffy pillows. The researcher's quick eyes noticed her features, happy, content, and also revived with color, no longer pale or sickly. How strange, how could she have healed in such a short period of time?

Testing his hypothesis, his hand went to her forehead, which only told of a normal temperature. Despite this, he still took a moment to pull away and fasten the windows.

"Indeed. Perhaps you don't deserve to read this, then."

Opening her mouth in protest, the girl thought with a stealthy intention, grabbing hold of the sacred object that he had chosen to rest on the nearby stand, while the charmer was distracted.

"Fooled again, our poor researcher."

She giggled, back to her normal self. He made a rolling of the eyes gesture, but bid his fingers towards the first few pages for her, opening them up and pointing to the foreign text.

"You have read the legend of the three dogs, before, have you not?"

"Mm. It was in a book of tales my mother used to read to me before bed."

She nodded in agreement, too busy perusing the polished, perfect and tidy foreign dialect, running her nimble digits over the worn pages, touching them as though they were of godly descent, pure and derived with the sweet nectar of ambrosia.

"Here's the true version. You may look at my notes on the side, I very much doubt you'll be able to read the actual text."

She bent her head to focus on his neat scrawl to the sides, smiling all the while, hardly noticing he had escaped the confines of her room.

"I'll want it back when you have finished, I have not translated any further than the legend yet."

"Of course, Eusine."

Intending to make good on her promise, the Carillon brought the tome closer to her, carefully enshrouding herself in the mystifying runes of the past, of legends unhindered and unfettered, of canines and roosting birds, reading aloud with a gentle, enchanted tone.

"_Brass and Tin,_

_Shelter for two,_

_Home for three._

_Ember and flame,_

_Scorched and dismayed,_

_Until all Brass knew was ash and ruin._

_Silver flew, _

_Wings aplenty off to another stretch,_

_While rainbow strayed,_

_Not ready to deflect._

_Three great maws_

_Torn asunder by blaze_

_Were given new breath_

_By tears of the rainbowed._

_And so-_

_Rainbow soon flew_

_With the three asleep_

_Waiting to be reawakened, anew." _


	17. Descant

Author's Note: Heavy dialogue, character growth and Lance fangirls ahead! My apologies for the lack of action, but alas, that is reserved for the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

_What makes us strong?  
What is that definition of power?  
How do we obtain it without corrupting ourselves?

* * *

_

The morning, cool, calm and clear, found one particular Carillon, no longer feeling the miserable throngs of sickness, fleeing the bright, opulent mansion through her second-story window.

This action had been done in the past, as she found it a grand way to escape from the clutches of observation, and was executed in the same manner, with her massive Onix leaning towards the aperture and lingering for her moment of grace.

Unfortunately, this time there were no predetermined distractions to muffle the noise of either the Pokemon or girl as they hastened to make their getaway.

So the child was not really surprised, but incredibly disappointed, when she looked down from her perch on the stone serpent's cranium and found the charming researcher, arms crossed, ivory and lavender suit neatly polished, cheeky smile fully embellished along his parted lips, waiting for her on the lawn. Evidently amused by the sight, the mystical man endeavored his austere vocals to the hastening child.

"Entertain me, demon. Why do you insist on using your window instead of the front door? Better yet, what possessed you to flee your room when I'm fairly certain I insisted you stay within the contents until you were better?"

The girl's features were distorted into a grimace as she slid down the rock Pokemon's spine, gingerly springing onto the grass moments later, with no indication of a solid, decent answer for the researcher.

"I wanted to get out…and I feel much better?"

A playful smile courted her visage at the end of her reply, likely placed in hopes of getting away with her preceding antics or displaying her prominent good health.

She heard a sigh from the researcher, something he feared was becoming all too common, and frowned again in a bitter displeasure as he came closer.

"Hardly good enough."

She followed with her own sigh as he scrambled to inspect her, a cool hand placed upon her brow, head tilted from side to side, blue eyes narrowing to glance into her matching slits. The girl did nothing to interrupt his examination, figuring the sooner it was over the better, but once he had finished, she contributed her exasperation to the charmer.

"I feel perfectly fine, Eusine! Honest!"

The researcher was well aware of her physical condition, one that had mended from its previous day rather spectacularly – she showed absolutely no signs of the illness. The circumstance plagued the charmer's thoughts, for in all honesty, the ailments that the child had displayed yesterday were something that should have kept her in bed for a lengthy period of time, not a single evening where she returned to her former self the next day. It made no logical sense.

Instead of voicing his confusion, as he would not be privy to do (imagine him not knowing the answer to a query, how could he fair as a researcher then?), he curled a smile back upon his face and proceeded with his lecture.

"I'm curious as to why we have not learned from our most prior experience of sneaking out."

Though his grin assured Keiko that he was not incensed by her proceedings, she still felt the necessity to explain her predicament, that she should no longer feel as though she were a captive in her own quarters, entitled to do nothing but mend when such actions had already been committed.

"But I couldn't stand it any longer, being cooped up in my room all day."

"Alas, our poor under-stimulated Carillon. Heaven forbid we didn't allow her to go anywhere while she was ill."

His sarcastic reply did not cause the mentioned to chuckle, only frown slightly in dismay. As he began to walk away, a single hand waving her in the same direction in an obvious cue to follow, the youth had a rampant thought that invoked her to believe she could con the researcher into listening to her requests.

"Allow me to propose a bargain, Eusine."

Out of the purpose of amusement, the latter turned, that wry grin incapable of increasing any further.

"How odd, my dear Keiko. I didn't realize you were in the position to be suggesting arrangements."

At the ceasing of his movement, the child advanced, standing before him like a stalwart anchor, fully intending to get her way, not allowing herself to be swayed by the great waves of Eusine and his possible throngs of logic.

"Har-har. Just listen to me for a moment, indulge me if you will."

She paused, effectively waiting for some kind of dismal decree on Eusine's part, but he did nothing, appearing ready to listen to her. The girl thought for a moment to be surprised, but then realized the researcher wasn't like Lance, set in his way and only his way, eager to regard the input of others.

"I still have some information you would love to hear, and I would like to be able to move freely about the house and the outside world. So, allow me to propose a trade."

Keiko watched his features for any sort of response, though it was likely he had already guessed where the conversation was heading, and she presumed for a moment to see the renewal of a twinkle in his eye, especially by mentioning the legendary dog. Perhaps she would even court its name across her lips this time, further indulge the researcher's imaginative mind, ensure her success in this endeavor. After all, why not play to the charmer's obvious weakness?

"I tell you what transpired between Suicune and I, you let me parade around as I usually do."

"You wound me with your cruelty. When did you become so cunning?"

Despite his words, the researcher's expression showed no sign of offense or grievous injury by her actions, instead, his eyes shined with a sense of overwhelming pride, wallowing in the notion that the Carillon had been learning from his sneaky ways, assembling her own thoughts on how to conquer an enemy without a ferocious, tumultuous duel (as she would have done with the Champion, no doubt). Without realizing it, she had been reading her enemy, the role the charmer unfortunately played at the moment, assessing the situation and playing to the strengths she had.

Their little ward was becoming a worthy opponent right before his eyes.

"So is that a yes?"

He rolled his eyes at her bright smile, and took to ruffling her blonde locks with one hand while she giggled, incapable of removing his own grin.

"Go on then, monster. You have swindled me. Run to breakfast, we shall discuss your beloved dog there."

He watched as she ducked beneath his palm, fleeing towards the house like a carefree lark, whimsical and blithe, seemingly untroubled by the earth's cruelty, looking over her shoulder towards him with an insouciant grin crossing over her visage. He could only revel himself with that image for a short amount of time, but would cling to it for much longer, because he was all too aware of how easily it would be ruined and sullied.

Perhaps even by his own hand, if what he had planned for this afternoon came into effect.

At some point, the innocence in her pure form would wash away, and the charmer could only remedy a funeral of its loss if it meant she was to become cunning, mighty, stronger, for in the wake of this world, it was the only way she would be able to survive.

* * *

"So you say it approached you, then what?"

"Well, it was like the dog was comforting me…I don't know any other way to explain it."

"And then?"

"I think I fell asleep."

The researcher's excited face, full of raptures and eager for any other information, suddenly fell into a dramatic frown. His entire body sunk into his chair, and a brief sigh lit into the room as he prodded at his now lukewarm breakfast.

"This story is hardly a fair trade, Keiko."

Morty chuckled to himself beside the girl, while Keiko tried to desperately sum up the adventure without making it so downright boring for the researcher.

"Fine, fine. It relaxed me, wrapped itself around me before I fell asleep, and I had never felt so peaceful, especially with what had happened the day before. I didn't even feel sick any longer. It was as though everything was gone."

Vigor renewed by her words, Eusine dropped his fork onto his plate with an overexcited crash, directing his features to the gym leader for the first time during the conversation, as though trying to rouse the blonde as well.

"Did you hear that Morty? It comforted her!"

"I heard, Eusine. I heard."

Smiling and shaking his head at the antics of their companion, Morty glanced sidelong at Keiko and managed to catch her eye, and soon they both quietly snickered while Eusine drifted off into his own world, mumbling the conjectures of the previous day.

"And then it brought you back to the house, despite the fact it has never been here. I wonder how strong the connection must be, perhaps the canine can read your thoughts…"

So driven by this information on the beast, he hadn't noticed the chuckling by his friends, consumed and fueled by any new notion of Suicune. Could the legendary canine run rampantly into the minds of others, or just its Carillon? Could it feel emotions, like Keiko's distress? Could it heal, assuage its ailing companion?

Completely distracted, he mumbled quietly to himself, not realizing how audible his voice had been.

"Oh, I must translate the rest of that text as quickly as possible. But not today, we shall be busy this afternoon."

The girl, stifling her prior giggle session with Morty, now sprang to attention, smiling and tilting her head in curiosity to Eusine's proclamation.

"Busy, how so?"

Caught slightly off-guard, a situation he never enjoyed, the researcher adjusted his frame in his wooden chair and looked downward towards his food.

"Ah, well, I have a good friend that makes excellent costumes, usually for acting troupes, but regardless, he agreed to help us."

Shifting his eyes, he caught Morty's and noticed the gym leader's rigid composure, the silent warning contained within his cerulean slits, and how quickly the ghost trainer's vision amended its stance on Keiko.

The girl had already visibly paled, but struggled to maintain a sense of poise, without vivid alarm, without a wretched fear creeping up her spine. Biting her lower lip, she managed to claim an inquisitive query to the researcher.

"Does he know of our situation?"

Ashamed of causing a state of fear to ensnare her frame, Eusine couldn't look her in the eye.

"Yes, yes he does."

Morty coughed, clearing his throat in hopes of salvaging the situation.

"I should hope he's trustworthy then…"

The charmer mustered his former expression in a moment of declaration, quite desperate to console and ease the Carillon in her bewilderment and understandable dread, though he would likely turn cause it again moments later. He wanted to proclaim his wishes for her not to be distraught, but in reality he presumed it wouldn't have much effect, the girl had gone through enough traumatic experiences to fall back on such memories then to listen to his hope-lit promises.

"Of course, of course! I would never place our darling Keiko in that kind of situation."

She appeared to calm herself, a small smile materialized in the corner of her lips, and he bitterly positioned himself to wipe it off her features.

"But, I do have a bit of warning for you, my dear."

Oh god, he couldn't look at her. He didn't want to bear the shame of witnessing the child's transformation of a mild serenity to utter apprehension and terror.

His voice took on a grave tone, quiet and pressing, trying to proclaim what was to come while assuring her safety – but it was so difficult with the presentiments clouded around her tiny frame.

"I sincerely hope you will forgive me, Keiko. Though it can be prevailed that I have friends in high places, there are to be others on the lower end."

Eusine took a moment to glance briefly over her face, noticed Morty's closer proximity to the girl as a means of comfort, overshadowed with unease, lacking her usual confidence and assurance of safety, of security, of good-natured, wholesome peace.

"If this visit were not necessary, I would not wish your presence within this home."

Her silence bid him to continue, her eyes frantically overwhelmed with the unknown, her mask of nonchalance long forgotten, urging him to continue so that she may have some brief moments of recovery.

"I fear…it may invoke unpleasant memories."

He turned away again, focusing on anything but her face as she recoiled and slanted her own slits elsewhere, likely trying to gain attention on anything but those miserable moments, for she could immediately discern what he had mentioned.

"My dear friend has recently become engaged, and while the woman is enchanting and beautiful, she has a past that, unfortunately, you will be gravely familiar with."

A dreadful dungeon flashed across his mind, and he struggled to adhere to the rest of the conversation, the finale of the vexatious news.

"The Lady Ophelia is an escaped Rocket executive."

* * *

Despite the cool, autumn morning, Sheryl had a line of sweat clinging to her brow, which was hastily removed by her warm hand as she struggled to maintain her attention on the foe in front of her.

Even with the perspiration highlighted across the bridge of her nose, forehead, and now her upper lip, the girl had no thought to removing her heavy, emerald cloak, because it was likely that she would be cold thereafter, and if she had to move anywhere else after this training session she was going to flop upon the ground in misery.

The training was intense; she had rarely participated in such hardships. Her poor Clefairy, attempting a mere Metronome against a rugged Machop, had almost been knocked out several times, leaving Sheryl to wonder just what the hell she was doing here, constantly healing the poor creature – it could hardly stand another battle.

In the midst of combat, a signature crimson hue appeared in the corner of the Rocket's eye, distracting her for a few moments.

Lance. He was there, presiding around the grounds, supervising and conversing with their instructor, a pupil of Koga. She tensed and tried not to show it on her face, but the overbearing Champion always made her nervous, always made her weary.

She watched his surly features as they circulated every which way, until ultimately landing on hers, and as she noticed the brief flash of his dark eyes, she became consumed with apprehension once more, especially when he leaned over to further talk with their instructor, writing out a note on some white paper. She turned away then, too anxious to see what else he might do, longing to focus on her battle as a means of diversion.

Sheryl hardly noticed that he had left some time after. Their counselor rang his bell, assuring them that their training session was over for the day. Sighing with relief and wiping her brow once more, the girl hastened towards the exit, but not before the trainer had pulled her aside.

"Master Lance requested I give you this."

In his hand was the note.

A few intense thoughts of weariness plagued the Rocket's mind, and it was all she could do to snatch the paper out of his hands with her shaking fingers, opening it to reveal the dragon tamer's hastened scrawl that requested her presence in his office after dinner.

She hadn't been aware of her small gathering of friends coming to see what was taking her so long, reading over her shoulder at the note in Lance's token penmanship until their strange squeals of excitement.

"Oh my! A note from the Champion! I wonder what it could mean!"

"Maybe he likes you Sheryl! Don't you find him so very handsome?"

"Only in that brooding sort of way though, his scowls are scary!"

"In his office, ooh, I wonder what scandalous things happen in there…"

"I know what scandalous things _I_ would do in there-"

"Oh wicked! On his desk or against the wall-"

She couldn't listen to their gabbing, tuning it out as her complexion grew ever more pale. Did he know who she was? Did he recognize her from Ecrutreak? Did he automatically presume she was part of the Rockets?

For once, the girl dreaded dinner.

* * *

During the drive to Olivine City, the Carillon hardly spoke a word. Each time the researcher peeked in his rearview mirror he found the child glancing out the window, a reserved, composed expression marring her usually luminous features, steeling herself for the moments soon to come.

He was truly hoping he wouldn't rue this day, that when the visit was over he wouldn't have to lament and apologize profusely to the youth for his ill-thoughts, for conceiving that she would have to withstand any more suffering.

The long, enduring silence ended once they drove past the various markets Olivine had to offer, distracting the teen for a few seconds, allowing some soft gasps and yearning for an assemblage of items to pass over her lips. Morty turned around once or twice to tease her, and her small grin would flicker back to its place for a minute passage of time.

As they pulled into the driveway of Eusine's companion, however, the child paled once more. Even the view of the pleasant, welcoming cottage, with the ocean's listless waves rolling beyond the wild embankments, couldn't muster that smile across the girl's face again. It was in this instant that she craved the security of Lance, who probably would have slapped her around the head for all the misshapen woe she was putting herself through, but also informed her that she was safe and protected, that no harm could befall her in this neat, tidy little home with them at her side.

She wondered if neither gym leader or researcher said this to her because they couldn't guarantee that not a single wicked slander would mark her countenance and rupture her soul, because they didn't know this woman well or what she had done in the past – though Keiko could account a few guesses. Once or twice, she drew her hands into the tapered sleeves of her cerulean cloak, allowing Lance's gift to act as some sort of security blanket in the passing sequences of unease.

Likely in notice of her misgivings, Morty came to her door as soon as she exited the car and offered his arm in support, for which the girl was most grateful, Eusine's careful eyes tracking the instance and flickering his slits back to the pathway of the home, perhaps comforted by the fact that the girl's own solace had been sated, if only for scarce seconds.

They were met at the door by a young, burly figure amassed with a thickened course of brown hair and a small Growlithe, announcing their presence to the world with its enthralled barking and charismatic owner.

"Ahoy there, Eusine and friends! Come right in!"

The trio did as they were told, hastened by one small canine as it yapped at their heels, the man following close behind, swinging the door close with an audible snap that seemed to make Keiko all the more anxious.

"Ophelia, our guests are here! Oh, sorry about that, Ava gets very excited when we have company."

Distracted by the call of the aforementioned dubbing of the former Rocket executive, the Carillon hardly noticed the splendid hallways, the lively decorated parlor that had obviously been affected by a woman's touch, clinging tightly to Morty's forearm and paying him no mind to the possibility of his flinching beneath her clenched embrace.

Eusine's companion at once bade to introduce himself to the teen, striking out a hand and a genuine smile in her sights, freeing her from the sounds of approaching, light footsteps.

"Arthur's the name, costumes are my game. You must be Keiko, yes? We've heard a lot about you."

"Ah, thank you. Pleased to meet you, Arthur."

Sheepish and managing a slight grin of her own, she removed herself from the ghost trainer and shook Arthur's offered limb, attempting to relax under the pretense of the other lady making her way down the hall.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Carillon."

A chilling, haunting voice grated at the child's senses, and she turned swiftly from where it had first appeared, focusing her sights on the being she had been dreading to witness since her allusion by the researcher that morning.

As soon as she set her blue eyes upon the other's obsidian orbs, she knew why this woman had been heralded as an Executive, why she could make others shudder and quiver at the mere sight of her.

Where Lance emanated power, and often overbearingly so, this entity screamed a potent declaration of might and will, of dominating forces that would meet their goals by any means necessary, that reeked of venom, of bitter malice, of corrupt malevolence –

Everything in Keiko's body told her to run. This creature was of the very same thread that had abducted and tortured her, locked her lithe frame in a dungeon to rot until she agreed to be their little marionette.

Yet, all she could do was stare, wide-eyed, as Morty led her out of the hall and into the parlor, not a word of protest ushered past her lips, drawn like a moth to a flame.

* * *

As they were seated in the living room, Eusine struck up the polite conversations as quickly as possible, swinging an eye to Keiko's rigid form on a nearby cushion every few moments.

"So, here we are, requesting your precious talents, Arthur."

The latter bobbed his head in gratitude, leaning against the armchair his fiancé currently occupied, clearly incapable of seeing her as Keiko did, for the dame he was all smiles, all grins, all blushes – she took the next few moments contemplating their union and how it was at all possible that a nice man was with such a wicked lady, choosing not to fixate on the art of conversing with the adults.

"I presume you have costumes in mind?"

"Yes. We will be sneaking into Rocket quarters, so I must ask that they resemble the current Team garb…"

Eusine's eyes drifted slightly to Ophelia, and there was such a wry grin springing to her features that Keiko couldn't discern whether it was good-natured or if she intended to decapitate the researcher at the first opportunity she was granted.

"Ah, that shouldn't be a problem at all."

Arthur, perhaps overly sensitive to any slights towards his betrothed, nodded and granted them the leave of the parlor.

"Tell you what, let's adjourn to the workshop now, you can give me your sizes."

As their party stretched their limbs and made to follow the costume maker, Keiko bid to leave alongside them, if only to escape from the woman's sneering eyes, the noticeable snicker, the prick of fear settling against her spine and causing just the briefest of shudders.

"Might I request the young girl stay here with me? I would love to converse with her."

The woman's voice grated on her nerves and caused the child's eyes to nearly pop out of her head, so widened and shocked, as she attempted to voice her dispute to the men without the shake of her head or insistent vocals. The males grew understandably nervous, Eusine took to swerving his cunning slits in each direction, obviously trying to garner a reason for the Carillon to follow them, and Morty advanced a few steps in her direction, perhaps eager for an attempt to snag her from her puffed cushion and free her from any promises.

Arthur didn't catch the hints.

"Oh, well, of course. You wouldn't mind, would you, Keiko?"

The girl's veins turned to ice, stunned and frozen in the moment. Her eyes flickered to the nearest door. Sure, she could certainly outrun Arthur and his sinister woman, probably not Morty or Eusine but they would understand her predicament and possibly pretend to be incredibly slow. She wondered if she could drive a vehicle. It couldn't be too hard, could it? Keys, she would need keys…and shit, they were probably with Eusine. Rats, foiled.

The pending silence surrounded her and she realized she hadn't spoken, hadn't been polite or cordial. Donning a sheepish smile upon her face, the youth knew there was no way out of it. She couldn't whine or request that she be left in the car or to follow them, there was truly only one option.

"No, of course not."

* * *

"Relax, child. You look like you've seen a ghost."

The men had adjourned to one of the back rooms - so gone was any resurgence of protection, and though she may have blabbered on some days ago about how she wanted to guard _them_ from the harshness of the world, she wouldn't have minded effacing the proclamation if it meant they would have stayed here, in this possibly cruel expanse.

The Lady Ophelia had risen from her armchair, elegantly waltzing into the connected kitchen, fixing herself some warm beverage, effectively prolonging the agony that traced Keiko's rapidly beating heart.

"Would you like any tea, Keiko?"

Ordinarily the child would never refuse her favorite drink, but as she sat on her cushion, blinking stupidly towards the woman, all she could think was that the ex-Rocket may poison it.

"No, thank you."

The other female shrugged her shoulders, turning away from the child for a moment or two, and the girl attempted to plot out her next move. Already tense, her attention had strayed from the atmosphere, and when she turned her head back around, she found the older lady neatly sitting in front of her, sipping her tea as sophisticated as possible.

Oh god, she was stealthy too-

"So you are the Carillon. Not much to behold, are you?"

Unprepared for the statement, the child raised her head in alarm, mouth forming a slight circle of surprise. The gall of the woman, never had she heard such a declaration uttered so bluntly, especially about her own entity (unless of course it was prospered by Lance, and she could usually let those things slide with a punch to his arm).

The young Keiko was not sure how to react. Should she allow the speech to pass, act as though she hadn't heard the lady's voice? Should she be passive and mute, utter nothing that could quite possibly land her in hotter water?

It was really too bad that her tongue thought faster than her brain.

"If you may excuse me, a stranger's first opinion of myself, with nothing to judge but casual observation, does not matter much to my thoughts. I shall not quiver if you perceive me as naught."

Looking at Ophelia straight in the eye, the girl noticed the woman's sneer and quirk of her brows, as if she were thoroughly surprised, but ultimately amused, by the proceedings. The child, on the other hand, wondered if she had strode upon some strange ritualistic test, but was only garnered into disappointment and dismay as the onslaught continued, shoved by another tact.

"A child of tragedy, orphaned and sent off to another world, I've heard it all before. What makes you so remarkably special then? What makes a legendary beast pursue you as its companion more than anyone else?"

She could feel Ophelia's narrowed orbs on her, searching for a reaction, while the child's veins surged, no longer out of fear, but some contrived anger, a deepening ire as the woman's words passed over her ear drums, attempting to flatten her countenance, any sanctity of willpower she had restrained.

"I do not know, my Lady."

A slight chuckle bubbled from the other woman, and a blaze of vexation erupted through the Carillon, clenching her jaw as her blue eyes met the lady's obsidian ones and saw the amusement written there, the delight of feasting upon the girl's open wounds.

"You don't know? How do you expect anyone else to know then?"

"Might I inquire as to why it matters to you? Regardless of the reasons, I am the Carillon."

For a moment, Ophelia was silenced. Keiko, managing to keep her stunned behavior under wraps and maintain a slightly impassive countenance, watched the opposing female's lips curl in one of the corners, the signal of a grin, further confusing the youth.

The woman tilted her head, a mirror image of perhaps what Keiko would have done if she had been on that side, the one asking the probing questions, the one inquiring and examining. She took a slight sip of her tea, swallowing gingerly as the girl waited for her words, and the Carillon thought for a moment that this must be one of her tactics, to make her fret until she stumbled over herself.

In due time, however, the lady smirked and postured yet another sentiment that could slash at the girl's armor, that could rust well-polished steel.

"Yet, I never expected that destined creature to be such a naïve child. You have an air of innocence surrounding you, which I find strange, because I know you have seen things that many couldn't imagine. Is that why they all protect you, because you cannot protect yourself?"

She had found the child's weakness, the one section of Keiko where a sword could truly land and mark a harbored wound, pinpointed and calculated so earnestly, without a single rue lined across her brow, without one lament crossing over her tongue and into the scenery to placate the girl.

The Carillon struggled to maintain a semblance of goodness, of civility and demure fortitude. She had always been so reckless, so impulsive, so damn stubborn and bull-headed, and while she wanted to change, figure out a different way to overcome obstacles, in this moment she could find no other way to combat the fiendish banshee postured in front of her.

The woman's insinuation raked at her senses and emotions, flustered her into a decree of such fury and wrath that she could do naught but explode, expose her bold, passionate spirit, her fierce entity, her childish regard. She rose from her cushion, placing herself higher than the seated, composed woman, cerulean orbs blazing with the heat of her anger, of her instigated ire, her voice raised, laced with contempt and maliciousness.

In that moment, she would have raised her cutlass and allowed it to swing, armor forgotten, defenses left to rot.

"What do you know about me? Because I look innocent you automatically presume I cannot hold my own? That I'm not strong enough?"

"I presume you cannot hold your own because of the fear you had waltzing in here, girl. You looked like a scared little lamb clinging to its shepard."

"Because of you! I didn't know what to expect other than some lady that once belonged to the Rockets! Since you know my history so well, I'm sure you can make some catty inference as to why I wouldn't want to meet another Rocket."

Then, the strangest thing happened. The ex-Executive, sitting beneath the child's enraged features, raised her hands from her tea mug's polished resin and clapped.

Clapped…as though she were proud, like she had just witnessed an excellent play and could not contain her excitement for the brilliant acting and writing, wishing the actors would parade from their destined wings and onto the stage for an encore.

"Bravo, little Carillon. That's what I've been wanting to see."

The girl's face fell in disbelief, in bewildered, obstinate confusion. Her limbs sunk, her body melted from its degree of outrage, and she was so utterly confounded by the latter's movements that she didn't stop her jaw from dropping, thinking to collect it to its prior place in a moment or two, when she was no longer stunned and that strange feeling of relief cooled off. Subsequently, darling Keiko sputtered like a fool.

"What – what are you talking about?"

"That spirit, that fierce intensity, I wondered if you had any at all."

The Carillon fell back to her cushion, legs feeling like jelly and no longer capable of holding her up.

"Wait, so you just said all of those things to _goad_ me?"

"Oh no. I believe in every word I said. Your reactions have now swayed me otherwise."

Further stunned into silence, the teen sat on her soft, fluffy cushion and wondered what she had just gone through. It had been like her first impressions told her, some mockery of a test, but the ridicule still haunted her, still postured itself as signs of necessary change, like Cupid's arrow, but instead of love, the tip held the sensations of taunting and the hint to amend her efforts, alter and morph into another being.

"Don't misunderstand me, I've been trained to spot the weaknesses of others. Yours was blindingly obvious, and while your guardians may be trying to harbor what is left of your unsullied countenance, the fact remains that you're at a turning point. Why else would you be getting disguises from Arthur? Your first attack is to be launched, and we can't have you playing the demure damsel any longer."

* * *

Somehow, they managed to settle amongst themselves on the floor and be friendly, cordial, as though not a single sense of derision had launched itself from either mouth of the females. Anyone waltzing into the scene, especially from past acts, would be so confused and addled by the proceedings that they would have likely left and come back a moment later to ensure they were not going absolutely senile. Gone was the fear; gone was the apprehension and tense ambience.

Perhaps that was the Carillon's forgiving, charming nature. No matter how fearful or angry she had been in some previous excursion towards the other person, she could always find it in her heart to put all of these moments aside, give them another chance at benevolence and friendship, so willing, so enchanting – a blessing, and ever so likely a curse in the same stead.

Ophelia had even offered her tea again, likely having sensed the child's reason for refusal at the earlier instance, and Keiko, convinced it was not actually full of an Arbok's venom, accepted it without pause.

Now comfortably lying on her stomach in the middle of the floor, Ophelia sitting just as primly as before, with legs swinging freely, the child indulged her curiosity.

"Why did you run away from the Rockets?"

Calmly, the woman answered the girl's query without a single sign of remorse or haunted chimes. There was no story of terror or dread, but a simplistic ease of not wishing to be in the same vicinity as the malicious thieves.

"I no longer had the same ambitions that I had claimed when I first joined. Besides, a fellow Executive of mine was making his bid for power, and I wasn't about to be his underling."

A brow quirked in further curiosity, the girl continued in her inquisitive queries.

"A fellow Executive? Could he be the current Boss?"

"It is quite likely. Angus was never one to sully his desires."

"Angus? That's his name?"

"Aye. I don't know much else about him. He had a family somewhere, off in the country. Who knows what happened to them."

The child had suddenly gone silent, furrowing the lines of her brow and staring at various shapes in the carpet. Ophelia, entrenched in her own interest, gave no qualm to her postured question.

"I presume your interest is because he was the one to capture you?"

The further amount of hush gave the lady the answer to her query, and she allowed the youth a few seconds of quiet thought and contemplation, sipping at her tea with a great delicacy, like she was practicing for some trials of finesse.

So she wasn't shocked when Keiko fully recovered from whatever desolate locale she had placed herself, ushering further questioning, eager to examine the woman in front of her.

"How…how did you escape?"

There was a slight mocking laugh uttered from Ophelia, and the girl's petulant frown appeared across her face at the escalation of derision once more.

"Escape? Child, I did not skulk around in the darkness, stealthily clinging to walls or anything of such a foolish nature."

"But you left-"

"I defected. That was all."

"How…so easily…"

"Because they couldn't defeat me."

The hand holding her tea mug placed the well-formed resin upon the rug and grabbed hold of the fallen girl's face, tilting her chin upwards in order to decree strong words of advice, so necessary, so vital to the Carillon's existence.

"There is no use to chasing after someone that you will never be able to conquer, because each time would be a failure, a great cost to esteem. Think about it – gain formidable strength, girl, and they won't be able to touch you."

Her ebony eyes traced the child's blue ones, encasing her with the signature truth of matters, trying desperately to convey her wisdom to a girl that was destined for great things, or to be shattered against the cliffs of the savage, barbaric world when her guardians turned ever so slightly from her gaze.

"And I don't mean just brawn, but trickery. Master the art of deceit as well. What they did to you was awful, make no mistake, but was done underhandedly, sneakily, with a great cunning."

She paused, allowing enough time for that vague glimmer of a smirk to ensnare itself across her features, watching the child's reaction as the girl's countenance managed to steel itself, become stoic and unexpressive, absorbing the information readily.

"What greater way to win without initiating a single battle? The Rockets don't think as your Champion or yourself may reason, they do not play with honor."

A great snicker played across the Lady Ophelia's features as she uttered her last set of words to prosper upon the conversation.

"Strike them before they can strike you, because mark my words, while you grow, they plan."

The information settled in the child's cranium, and the woman pulled her long fingers away from the girl's face, allowed her to droop in thought as she left to refill her mug.

Though what the dame had said was likely in all matters of truth, there was something about the notion that caused Keiko to invoke a sense of bitterness across her fortitude. She didn't want to be like the Rockets, at no instance would she ever drive such a wish into her membrane and leave it there to be nurtured with immoral yearnings, she had no desire to plague the world with onslaughts of terror by the inventions of her corrupted mind.

Was that truly the only way to defeat them? To usher her thoughts much like their own?

The revelation made her ill, and she bade her mind to think of anything else.

* * *

Eusine's journey from Arthur's back rooms to the parlor once more could not be done with more frantic urging, so petulant and pervading was his anxiety that he would find their precious Carillon distraught and hidden in some darkened corner, pouring out her horrors and sorrows. His heart ached at the very perceived image, conveying him to hurry down the narrow hallway to assuage the doomed child.

But as he managed to enter the parlor, his eyes and ears came upon quite a different scene.

There sat Keiko, directly across from the Lady Ophelia, on the floor, smiling pleasantly and chatting with the other woman as though they were old acquaintances catching up on long actions past, not a sign of fear entrenched across her vivid features, bright and jovial, sparkling and spirited.

The researcher didn't know what to make of the situation. At some point he must have stopped, staring bafflingly, for Morty and Arthur were soon behind him and halted their frames, peering upon the spectacle with sets of their own surprised countenances, struggling not to interrupt.

"How did you go about meeting Arthur?"

The Carillon, ever curious, paid no heed to the males now filling out the once vacant entryway, posturing her queries as they flew through her mind.

Ophelia, on the other hand, had likely noticed their intrusion, or perhaps sensed the familiar presence of Arthur, and took to cutting off her detailed answer.

"Well, on the evening I defected from the Rockets, there was this kind gentleman on the side of the road that noticed my wound – oh, finished already?"

Both females turned to the men, presenting them with their own charitable interludes of smiles and grins, rising from the floor to greet them as best managed.

Eusine, incapable of containing his shock, stood flabbergasted, while Morty returned Keiko's warm greeting with a snicker and benevolent sentiments prospering with the calm air.

"It seems we had nothing to fear after all."

* * *

Once everything seemed to be in order, disguises neatly in place to be delivered at a later juncture, Eusine and company bid to leave, hinting at possible visits in the near future, and finally granting the engaged couple peace.

Seating himself in a comfortable armchair, hand flying to his brow and kneading it ever so gently due to some overwhelming tension, Arthur's quiet, calm voice extended itself towards his chosen lady.

"I hope you were not callous to our heroine."

She smiled, slinking over to the same chair, placing herself neatly in his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"On the contrary, my dear Arthur, we had a pleasant conversation. There's something about her that makes me believe she will do a great many things. She's too open-hearted for everything to go smoothly or simply, but I think Suicune chose the correct companion."

For a moment, Ophelia raised her eyes to the ceiling, as if putting an action into great thought before delivering the final proclamation, grinning all the while that would make any creature believe she could never have been involved with such a immoral band.

"Do inform Eusine that if she ever requires assistance, I will be most happy to give it."

* * *

The tremor of nerves that had settled into Sheryl's frame were not sated despite any idle chit-chat her companions offered, any gossip that entered her mind was quickly swept away at the mere mention of the Champion and possible reasons for requesting her presence.

Dinner held no taste and the clock spun so vigilantly that the Rocket thought it could have been conspiring against her. Before long, she found herself pushed in the direction of the Plateau's chambers, the high-rise buildings containing the one person she never wanted to see again.

She would have taken the Boss's scolding criticism any day of the week if it meant that she didn't have to face the Champion and his dangerous scowls, his looming, overwhelming power, the possessive nature to protect his ward at any cost, because the youth knew that was all this meeting could be about. She had done something to set off his suspicions, leaving an impression that she was hiding secrets that could threaten his beloved companions.

On her slow, dismal walk to the prescribed grounds, the girl pondered over what he could really do to her. He couldn't physically injure her frame, so at least that likelihood had been thrown out, nor could he truly invoke any other sort of wrath upon her but his incredible disdain and bitter contempt. Maybe she would get thrown out of the training regime? She really couldn't care about that, unless of course the Boss heard the news and wished to punish her severely for her stupidity…oh, far too many options and none would be clear until she partook in this horrible discussion.

Ultimately Sheryl arrived at his door, knocking dismally, in hopes he wouldn't hear the noise and she could escape. Unfortunately, he responded with a gruff bid to enter, and quickly she heaved a grand sigh, fixed herself as a woman of great confidence, and strode into the confines.

The office was dull and boring, the desks neatly polished, the chairs cold and aloof, a place one truly wished to spend absolutely no time within. The Champion, seated behind his high-rise escritoire, was clearly not intending to indulge the room with any sort of brightness either, his indifferent, formal, scathing posture admitting no sense of kindness, no falsehood of benevolence to be begrudged in this sanctum.

"Take a seat."

His rough, obviously irritated, vocals ushered her to a chair placed in front of the desk and she struggled to steel herself for the foreboding nature of her visit.

The Champion traced his eyes from the document he had been studying and placed the amber orbs upon her, and all at once she saw that grave look of intent to smash her like a bug, to grind her into the floor and leave her remains for some pathetic servant to clean up later. She fought the inane urge to tremble.

"Do you know why I requested your presence, Sheryl, or is it Cher? I can't quite figure that out."

Her eyes must have widened in her stunned aptitude, because a visible smirk lined across his lips at her silence.

"You have been very foolhardy in your pursuits."

She didn't think to ask how or why he had found out her identity, perhaps he was granted a considerable amount of observation and wit, for she was a bit too busy trying not to dissolve into jelly in that cold, wooden chair.

"I found a strange book beneath your cloak in your assigned quarters the other day. How might that have come into your possession?"

"I have no idea, sir."

He chuckled to himself; she noticed his snickering nearly bordered on sadistic, so thoroughly amused by her attempts, perhaps even delirious over the notion that he had trapped one of his enemies.

"Lying is very unbecoming, Rocket. However, I do find it odd that your Boss would send you here when you are so very bad at such a skill, and seem to fumble on these missions you employ."

Maybe it was time to give in, surrender and hold her wrists out for the foreboding cuffs. She swallowed for a moment, contemplating what she should say, what she could do. Her foolish nature had caused nothing but folly where she had wished for success.

There was no way out of her mess, but perhaps there was a way to make the most out of her deplorable situation, to take the Boss down with her, She hated him, his commanding ways, his overwhelming power, his mocking laughter, with such a bitter, conniving loathing – if she couldn't have his position as her father once had, then why not ensure he was relieved of it?

She allowed the smallest of smirks to grace her lips, and tore her green eyes from the mottled floor patterns to the Champion's blazing amber orbs.

"He hates me, sir. He finds me too ambitious for my own good."

Lance shrugged, picking up a writing utensil to busy himself with some letter while he listened and lectured.

"It is rather unhealthy to presume your wishes in front of one so taken with his own power. I would imagine you have problems concealing these desires."

"It does not matter what he thinks of me. I despise him."

He looked up from his documents with a keen eye, glaring at her for a few seconds with a quirk of his brow before settling back onto whatever object had captivated his interest.

"Ah, then you and I share something in common. I'm sure you are aware of what he has done to a good friend of mine, and if I have anything to say about it, such an occasion shall not be happening again."

She didn't dare think that he wouldn't keep such a promise.

"So, I have a proposition to offer you, one that would be very foolish to ignore."

Her attention diverted back onto the Champion, she watched him fold his arms over the desk and shift forward a bit, appearing even more menacing, even more mighty. The youth nodded in his direction, ascertaining her interest, for she had naught else to do, no other options, so ensnared and cornered.

"I could easily surrender you to the police. You could be tossed into a prison cell, left to rot. I'm sure you truly don't want such a situation to fall upon you."

Silent as the grave, she shook her head.

"Or you could provide me with some noteworthy information you hear about the Carillon."

Gasping slightly and raising her head in alarm, anxiety pulsed through her veins and her heart beat erratically in her chest.

"You want me to become a spy? But sir, I'm not even the same vicinity as the Rockets-"

"You shall be sent back to your Boss, upon some excuse that you are not fit for military duty, have fallen ill, or whatever weakness interrupts your chance at claiming such a role."

He had figured out every avenue, already presumed she would take this position, for there was no other one for her except as a prisoner, trapped by her own stupid notions and selfish dreams, forced into this wicked onslaught of terror.

"What shall your decision be?"

Which was the lesser of two evils…which road or path would take her to some sort of sanctuary?

"I do not like the thought of prison, sir."

"Ah, I don't think anyone does."

She would later wonder why any of her fellow Rockets shuddered and quivered at the sight of their Boss, when they had never laid eyes on the cunning Lance with the scheme of revenge on his mind.


End file.
